St Brutes
by Qest
Summary: There are some weird things at St. Brutus'. Like the Freaks. They could be powerful allies, but Harry has to play by the rules of St. Brutes, a place where he is just another newbie... FullSumInsideChaptersMUCHLongerThanPrologueNoLongerOnHold
1. prologue

Disclaimer – Not mine. Don't own it. Don't particularly care if you sue me, but it'd be a waste of your time.  
  
Summary – Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always tell people that Harry goes to St. Brutus' Center for Incurably Criminal Boys... What if Harry ended up going there for school, and it was much more than it seems?  
  
A/N – I checked to see if someone had already done this particular 'What If' and didn't find anything. If you did a story on this line, sorry! I have another story on fanfiction... Don't read it. Please. I was a newbie then, my current project is on fictionpress, where I am also called QestioningReason. Check it out if ya'll want, this'll be second place to that story, for times when I don't feel like writing anything really deep. If enough people read both stories, Kay might make a guest appearance as a human.... That'd be weird, but cool....

Harry Potter, famed Boy-Who-Lived, the one who supposedly destroyed the evil Lord Voldemort, Soon-to-be-fourth-year, Seeker on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team, a few weeks short of fourteen, woke from a nightmare, heart pounding wildly in his ribcage, and tumbled off of his bed, taking the pillow and most of the blanket with him.  
  
Harry crossly untangled himself and put the palm of his hand to the lightening bolt scar on his forehead, which had begun to sting painfully. He rubbed at it with two fingers, using the rest of his hand to push his messy mop of black hair off of his damp forehead.  
  
Idly glancing at his alarm clock, Harry discovered that it was just past seven in the morning. There was no use going back to sleep now. He crossed the room carefully, avoiding the bits of broken stuff that had once belonged to his cousin, Dudley, with the intention of getting some day clothes out of his dresser.  
  
Halfway across the room, a split second before Harry would put his foot down on some sharp, broken, plastic /thing/, a loud, impatient tap came from the window. Harry whirled to face the window, adrenalin from the nightmare still running through his veins.  
  
Instead of Uncle Vernon's fat face, or, worse, whatever face the Dark Lord was currently using, Harry saw a large barn owl, it's feathers tossed by the wind, which was carrying a heavy letter with the Hogwarts seal.  
  
Confused, Harry walked over to the window and let the owl in, who hooted appreciatively. The letters for school weren't meant to be let out for another few weeks. The boy opened the door to Hedwig's cage for the barn owl to get some water. Hedwig was out hunting.  
  
Harry leaned against his desk as he opened the letter, meeting the familiar green, flowing script that could only belong to Albus Dumblebor, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where Harry had spent most of the last three years.  
  
_Harry -  
  
There has been a slight emergency here at the school. No one was seriously hurt, don't worry. It seems that Voldemort and his supporters have managed to get through Hogwarts' defenses and apparate directly onto the grounds. Sirius has had to depart quickly, please do not try to contact him, as it would undoubtedly reveal his location to the Death Eaters. We hope to have this problem rectified by the second semester. Until then, your Uncle, who I have had words with, has found a suitable place for you to spend the first semester. St. Brutus', or something. I know – you don't think that you will enjoy the first semester there. Keep in mind, not all is as it seems. You will be in no way cut off from the Magical community. Quite the contrary, in fact. You will understand after you start school there. I believe it will be a most enlightening experience.  
  
- Dumbledor, you know all of the titles.  
_  
Harry glared at the letter for a moment, trying to decide if it was more fitting to rip it into shreds or to light it on fire, when something occurred to him. The dream, hazy in memory... Voldemort had mentioned apparating, this must be what he was so happy about.  
  
The owl decided it was a good time to leave, taking the young Wizard's lack of response as acceptance, and flew out of the window. Harry started to slam the window shut, but stopped himself just in time, knowing that waking up his Uncle this early in the morning would be a bad idea.  
  
With a resigned sigh, Harry threw on some of Dudley's old, oversized clothes, and slowly descended the stairs into the Dursley's immaculate living room. The downstairs clock read 8:00, so Aunt Petunia would be down the stairs in moments, before bustling back up to wake Uncle Vernon and Dudley.  
  
Having nothing better to do, Harry set about cutting a grapefruit into quarters. Dudley was on a diet, and the whole family was taking part in it, which, unfortunately, included Harry. Aunt Petunia came down the stairs, looking as neat and spotless as her living room, and nodded to his Nephew, "Good. You're up. After Breakfast, I want you to weed the front garden. Maybe that will keep you out of trouble."  
  
Harry responded with an empty, muttered, "Yes, Aunt Petunia." He didn't really care. His Aunt puttered around the kitchen for a moment, before going upstairs to wake her 'Dudy-kins.' Uncle Vernon had already left for work. At least her wouldn't be gloating over Harry's plans for the first semester.  
  
As Harry placed breakfast at the square table, he briefly considered writing Ron and Hermione. He would get instant sympathy, but Dumbledor would undoubtedly tell them within the next few days. Harry just wanted to forget about St. Brutus' for as long as possible.  
  
Harry totally ignored the conversation during breakfast, or lack thereof, as Dudley was staring blankly at the morning cartoons. After cleaning up the dishes, he dutifully weeded the garden, but mostly because he had nothing better to do.  
  
While the afternoon was wilting away, Harry cleaned the lunch dishes and shuffled up to his room. He kicked open his school trunk, and grabbed the first book he found. He probably wouldn't even be able to /read/ about the magical world for a whole semester, despite what the Headmaster said. Harry was determined to memorize all of his schoolbooks by then, and do all of his summer homework, just in case.  
  
Harry walked down to dinner, carefully bereft of calories, due to Dudley's diet, with a feeling of dread. Uncle Vernon would be there, and he would know about Harry's plans of going to St. Brutus'. Harry didn't need to be able to tell the future to know that it would not be a pleasant meal.  
  
Harry slid into his place at the table, across from his ugly, fat Uncle and to the right of his uglier, fatter Cousin. Aunt Petunia seated herself on the remaining side of the table, handing out everyone's meal. To Harry, it looked like a bunch of fat-free hamburgers that were missing the buns, a lump of something gray closely resembling a softer version of a rock, and some yellow mush that was, supposedly, corn.  
  
While Harry and the Dursleys started in on their dinner, Uncle Vernon grinned at Harry from the other side of the table, the pink folds of fat crinkling up around stupid, small eyes, "Well, boy," Uncle Vernon's voice was nasal and jarring, and his chins jiggle as he talked, "Looks like even that freak school of yours agrees that you're a criminal. Following after that godfather of yours, eh?"  
  
Wanting dearly to jinx his uncle into several small, slimy pieces, Harry replied in a nonchalant voice before he could stop himself, "Yeah, I suppose so. But, I reckon I'll do a much better job than him."  
  
Uncle Vernon, obviously not realizing all, or anything, that his nephew's response meant, simply leaned forward to peer at Harry, making him seem more like a fat, pink, shell-less turtle than a pig, and said sneeringly, "I wouldn't talk like that at St. Brutus' if I were you, boy. Might get you into some trouble. We wouldn't want that happening, now would we?"  
  
Harry shrugged, keeping his expression calm and careless, as he rose from the table and picked up his mostly empty plate and cup, "Hmm." The Boy Who Lived cleaned up his dinner things, and the rest of the family's, as they finished eating, while tuning out further comment from his Uncle. Harry knew he would have an awful time, he didn't need anyone else to point it out for him.  
  
Harry got into bed without any more rational thought. He found himself staring morosely at the calendar situated at the head of his bed. It was supposed to be joyfully counting down the days until Hogwarts began again. It was totally useless if Harry wanted to know how long he had until the beginning of St. Brutus'. He didn't know when that school would start, in any account.  
  
Hedwig hooted encouragingly from the other side of the room. It only served to remind Harry that he would have to send her away – probably to the Weasly's – before going to school. The last, depressing thought in his head as Harry drifted off into the sweet oblivion of sleep was that Dumbledor had said, 'We hope to have this problem rectified by the second semester,' not, 'We will.' As far as Harry was concerned, it would be a long time before he would see Hogwarts again.  
  
A/N – first chapter is totally not beta-ed, if you ignore the Microsoft Word thingy. Please review, it's appreciated and stuff. Later chapters will probably be longer. I never realized how much easier it is to write fanfiction as opposed to original works. There will be a definite twist in the next two chapters, things aren't as hopeless as Harry thinks they are. Review! 


	2. one

Disclaimer – Not mine, or yours, either, if it comes to that.  
  
A/n – I am totally NOT feeling loved, people. You know how many reviews I got? One! You know how I got that review? Sending one of my friends the URL. Sheesh.  
  
Jikan no yume – Yeah... I'm too sleepy to respond... I'll aim you later...  
  
Chapter one  
  
Unlike most summers, which seemed to last much too long, this time it seemed to pass much too quickly. Dudley's birthday came, while Harry stayed at Mrs. Figg's. Harry's birthday came and went, bringing food, gifts, and long notes of sympathy from his friends.  
  
August the third started as usual. Harry's alarm went off in his ear, bringing the Boy Who Lived into a forced state of consciousness. He shut it off by feel as he searched for his glasses. Harry got ready for the day and walked down the stairs, reminded – unpleasantly – that it was Saturday by the large form of his Uncle sitting at the kitchen table.  
  
Aunt Petunia cut the grapefruit that morning, and Harry couldn't help that notice that Dudley's slice was about twice the size of his. When Harry was halfway done with his meager breakfast, there was a sound at the mail flap. As had happened the last few mornings, he got up to get it, knowing that his grapefruit would mysteriously leave his plate the moment his back was turned.  
  
Harry picked up the mail from where it was laying on the clean rug in front of the door, taking his time as he walked back into the kitchen. He half-heartedly flipped through the mail. Dudley's Smeltings letter had come a few days ago. There were a few bills, a letter for Aunt Petunia, and... Harry's heart sank. He dropped the other letters on the kitchen table, telling his uncle in a blank voice, "I'm gonna go read this in my room..."  
  
Uncle Vernon chuckled, "Got your letter there, have you? I'm sure you'll have fun at St. Brutus'. It's where your kind belong, anyhow." He had been bringing up that school at almost every meal, knowing that it would bother Harry. And, when Uncle Vernon didn't mention it, Dudley was sure to.  
  
"...Yeah," Harry answered at length as he began to climb the stairs to his room. He had been hoping in the corner of his mind that Dumbledore would suddenly change his mind and send another letter, saying that Harry could come to Hogwarts. Apparently not.  
  
Shutting and locking the door behind him, Harry crossed the floor and flopped onto the bed on his stomach. He propped himself up on his elbows as he stared at the letter with dull green eyes. In plain, black, typed font on the heavy, large, white envelope was the address –  
  
**Mr. Potter  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey  
**  
Harry ripped upon the envelope and turned it upside down, causing several pieces of paper to fall out. Harry picked up the first one, which was really two sheets of computer paper stapled together, and slowly unfolded it. Underneath a sketchy picture of a black panther and the bold heading "**St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys**", there was more plain, typed font with the lines so close together that it nearly made his eyes cross.  
  
**Mr. Potter –  
You have been enrolled into St. Brutus' Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. St. Brutus' is the finest, and only, secure center for boys in England. We hold the highest of standards and ensure that the students meet them. One such standard is our uniform. To guarantee that all students follow the dress code, we will send two full uniforms to your address. They should arrive in one to four days after this letter. All textbooks and supplies are provided by the school. We wish to maintain a safe environment for all students, so it is forbidden to bring any weapons or drugs onto campus. For more on this, please see the attached sheet, which contains an abbreviated list of rules. To further ensure a safe environment, the possessions of all students are screened upon entry to the school. The list of allowed possessions is enclosed, along with a sheet which your parent(s) or legal guardian must sign. As you live a large distance from St. Brutus', we have enclosed a plane ticket. Be on time for your plane, it leaves at 9 am, on August 28th. From there, you will be taken by bus to the Center. Every third Saturday afternoon, a staff member will take you and a group of other boys to purchase necessities. By doing this, we hope to keep the students accustomed life in normal society. We are pleased to have you join us for a successful year at St. Brutus'  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Mr. A Scheldon, Principal  
  
Ms. M Kieth, Vice Principal  
**  
Harry unhappily folded back the first page of the letter, reminded once again how little this school would be like Hogwarts. The next page, the 'abbreviated' list of rules, was full of 4 columns of rules, written in miniscule font. Harry merely scanned over it, and couldn't help but be a little apprehensive after seeing a few of the rules. He wasn't sure that he wanted to be in a school where they felt it was necessary to remind students that "throwing or pushing any animals/people/objects off of roofs, fire escapes and/or balconies" is forbidden.  
  
After refolding the letter and rules and putting them back into the envelope, Harry picked up the next sheet, which was a list of the allowed possessions.  
  
- Uniforms

- Personal hygiene products

- Shoes, other than combat boots

- Personal items which do not include

- Drugs

- Alcohol

- Any products that involve fire

- Any material that is not G-Rated

- Any items that a staff member has explicitly told you not to bring

- Animals of any sort

-Items that can be used for 'pranking'

-Weapons

-'Toy' weapons

- 'Fake' weapons

- Candy or food  
  
Stereos, Walkmans, and CDs are allowed, so long as they stay in the dorms and staff members do not see it fit to confiscate them for misuse.

All possessions are screened upon entry of the school, so there is no reason for a student to possess any object that is not allowed.  
  
Harry placed that sheet back into the envelope, along with the plane ticket, his heart seeming to sink through the floor. He couldn't help but remind himself that he had only 26 days before he would have to leave.It was still early morning, but all Harry wanted to do was fall asleep and wake up in Hogwarts.  
  
Despite Harry's attempts, time sped on faster than ever. Three mornings of rolling out of bed and hitting the floor later, Harry was at the breakfast table when the doorbell rang. Aunt Petunia got up to get it, incase it was someone they had to impress. It wasn't or not particularly. Just a young man who didn't speak English delivering Harry's uniform.  
  
The Boy Who Lived took the package from his aunt, who immediately turned and walked back into the kitchen, not sparing her nephew a glance. Suddenly losing his already slight appetite, Harry went up to his room to open his package, as he had with the letter. He was remotely thankful that they had sent him a uniform, as opposed to having Aunt Petunia try to dye some old clothes the right color.  
  
The uniform was rather plain. A grey, cotton, collared shirt and plain black pants. Nothing was overly dressy, and, thankfully, they fit better than Harry's normal clothes. Harry flopped on the bed on his stomach, as had become a habit for the discontented teen, and stared at the calendar. He had been counting down his remaining days on it.  
  
Before his eyes, the days seemed to fall away. 7, 8, 9... _Plenty of time left..._ 10, 11, 12... _I still have some summer left..._ 13, 14, 15... _eleven days is loads of time..._16, 17, 18..._ I really ought to find a way to sneak in my Hogwarts textbooks..._ 19, 20, 21... _Only five days left, I should try to enjoy them..._ 22, 23, 24... _I need to send Hedwig off to Ron's now..._ 25... _I had better get packing... _26... BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!  
  
Harry's alarm went off in his ear. Glancing lethargically at the calendar and knowing without putting his glasses on that today was the day he would leave, Harry was very tempted to lay back down and ignore his alarm clock. After a few seconds, though, it started to get to him.  
  
With a heartfelt sigh, Harry slammed down on the 'off' button and got up, shoving on his glasses with only slightly less intensity. They had, mercifully, not broken over the summer. In twenty minutes, Harry was standing downstairs, having, showered, eaten, dressed in his uniform, lost any remaining enthusiasm, checked his trunk again, and gotten Uncle Vernon's signatures for everything.  
  
It was Monday, and the airport was on the way to Uncle Vernon's work, so he would be driving Harry. Needless to say, neither of them were exactly thrilled about this. Uncle Vernon led the way out of the front door, grumbling about how he would be late, though Harry had been ready well before his uncle.  
  
The trip to the airport was silent and far too short in Harry's opinion. He had put paper covers of some of Dudley's old, and untouched, books over his magical textbooks and had hidden his wand in a case he had found that was meant to hold an exceptionally long toothbrush. Despite such cares, Harry was terrified of being caught. He hadn't liked the look of some slips that his Uncle had signed.  
  
Uncle Vernon dropped Harry off at the entrance to the airport, with only the growled instructions to not cause any of "_that_ sort of trouble" as a farewell. Harry couldn't've cared less, as he was more worried about finding and getting on his plane.  
  
He pulled the ticket out of his pocket and stared at it hopelessly before grabbing a cart for his trunk. Harry found his way into the airport and to a sign with a map on it. Only 35 minutes and two wrong turns later, Harry's bag had been checked and he was boarding the plane. Though he had been sure that he would miss the plane, Harry was actually ten minutes early.  
  
There were three more people in the St. Brutus' black and grey, all of whom were older than Harry. Just three minutes before the plane was scheduled to pull back from the gate, a fourth person in a black and grey uniform appeared. The person was, surprisingly, a girl. She was wearing a black and grey plaid, pleated skirt, with a thin chain in place of a belt. She was wearing black lipstick, which went perfectly with her pale skin and blue hair, which was pulled carelessly into a bun.  
  
The girl looked down at her ticket, held in hands that were covered in thick, black gloves, trying to find her seat. Unexpectedly, the other male St. Brutus' students didn't whisper comments about this girl, as they had with several of the other travelers. They simply watched her carefully, as if afraid the girl would suddenly press a button and explode the plane or something.  
  
The girl's black eyes locked on the seat next to Harry. She looked to be about his age, maybe a year older, maybe a year younger, and much shorter, but something about her made Harry's insides squirm. There was something very, very off about her dead, black eyes and expressionless mask.  
  
Oblivious to the looks she was getting from the other students, the girl slid into the seat next to Harry, and, to his surprise, didn't even glance at him. She buckled her seatbelt and pulled a book out of her purse, Harry could see that her purse was sturdy, huge, square, black, and marked with a medic's cross. As the plane began to move, the girl didn't blink, simply continued to read, her chipping silver fingernail polish catching the light.  
  
The plane ride was, thankfully, quite short. Harry wasn't sure that he'd be able to stand sitting near the statue of a girl for very long. When the plane was at the gate, a stewardess stood and called out in a bored, tired voice, "Would the students for St. Brutus' please disembark first and follow me. Your bags have already been taken."  
  
The students in black and grey, including the girl, stood a little stiffly and followed the stewardess. Harry had the feeling that some of the other students wouldn't have done anything the woman said, except for the fact that they were able to get off first.  
  
They were led down to the chairs where people waited for their planes. Waiting for them was a tall, muscular, relatively young man. He had a hard chin, harder blue eyes, and fair hair in a buzz cut. He looked over the group, checked something on his list and ordered, "Follow me, and don't get 'lost.'" It seemed that two of the older students were tempted to break off from the group, but decided it was too early for pranks.  
  
The group made their way through the airport and into the parking lot, where the man seemed to count them again, to make sure no one was missing. They seemed to be waiting for the bus. During the spare time, the man turned to address the group, but had his eyes locked on two older boys who had been joking together the whole trip, "Everyone, get out the papers that your parents – or legal, guardian Kyle. You can't get out that easy." He directed this comment at a sixteen-year-old with shaggy black hair, "And hand them in."  
  
Everyone obeyed with varying levels of enthusiasm. Kyle's friend managed to 'accidentally' tear his in half. So far, so good, Harry thought nervously as the bus pulled up. It was a one-level, beat up, yellow school bus. There was only one slight difference – the driver was in great shape and had a gun out and loaded, in case one of the juvenile delinquents tried something.  
  
Harry walked down the isle, nervously wondering where to sit. The girl from the plane was walking in front of him and, surprisingly, seemed just as unsure, though her expression didn't waver. She was waved over by a group of about five girls and boys in the back who gave Harry the same funny feeling. In the whole bus, there were only three girls, but Harry still didn't see why they were there, as it was St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal _Boys_.  
  
Hesitantly, Harry sat in an empty seat near the middle. About thirty seconds later, he was slammed against the side of the bus. Someone with dripping black eyeliner and green hair put into huge spikes growled, "Get outta my seat, kid."  
  
The driver walked down the isle, taking his time, as Harry tried to stutter out a response. _And I used to think that Dudley was bad,_ Harry thought to himself. The driver pulled the other student off of Harry. Harry was pushed out of the seat by the other student, who then took the seat for himself. The driver nodded Harry towards a seat with one other person about his age. Harry mumbled something and fell into the seat, noticing that the driver was holding his gun.  
  
The other students didn't even blink at the show, obviously considering it normal. Harry couldn't help but notice that there was no one there younger than him. As the bus started moving, he turned towards the person sharing the seat. He had a medium skin tone, with brown hair that was falling into his chocolate eyes. Harry wouldn't think that he belonged to St. Brutus', except for the fact that Harry could clearly hear the base and some of the lyrics of the other boy's music, even though he was wearing headphones.  
  
Switching off his music and pulling off his headphones, the boy twisted to face Harry, saying pleasantly, "Hey. I'm Carlos. Wa's your name?" Now that he was facing Harry, he could tell that Carlos originally had black hair, but it was bleached to various shades of black, brown, and blond.  
  
With a shrug, Harry replied shortly, "Harry." He looked around, considering asking Carlos his question, "So... Um, Carlos. We're the youngest people here, but... erm, doesn't this school also have places for younger people?"  
  
Putting away his scratched and beat up Walkman, Carlos nodded, "Yeah. This'd be my third year here. There are two campus', though it's all one school. People fourth year and up in one, and everyone younger in the other. We're with the newbies this year, I'm afraid."  
  
He glanced at Harry once more, "This's your first year?" At Harry's nod, Carlos grinned and responded, "Relax a little bit. We may be 'incurably criminal' but it's not like we're cannibals or anything."  
  
They passed the bus trip mostly talking about music. The music Carlos had been listening to was, actually, not heavy metal or anything like that. It was Christian rock. Despite Carlos's repeated consolations, Harry was still against the idea of actually attending St. Brutus', or, as Carlos called it, St. Brutes. As far as Harry was concerned, Carlos was probably the only person on the whole bus who wouldn't break his arm in three places, if given a reason. Giving a glance at Carlos's spiked bracelet, Harry couldn't help but think that Carlos might do that, too.  
  
The bus trip was pretty short. After less than a half hour, they were pulling past a large grey building, surrounded by a chain-link fence, which was topped with barbed wire. Carlos pointed it out as the center for the younger students.  
  
They passed up that campus, and drove on to the next one. They pulled through the gate, which clanged dismally closed behind them. Harry had the feeling of being locked up in prison, which was, basically, what was happening. It all looked to be one large building, but, in several places, halls were merely connected with a covered sidewalk.  
  
The bus pulled to a stop in the asphalt expanse in front of the building. There were several basketball hoops and other things on the crumbling, black surface. At the moment, however, it was being used for the unloading and screening of baggage. The students got off the bus, most of them just jumping the stairs down.  
  
Carlos and Harry split up to look for their trunks. They were, mostly, organized by last name. The bright, noon sun bounced off the asphalt that wasn't as crumbled and the metal fastenings of trunks. There were still very few girls who traveled around with a few guys. The whole group was uneasily avoided by everyone else.  
  
Harry finally got to get a good look at the rest of the students. The majority of them had hair that was dyed or held up with mass amounts of gel. A good percentage had taken liberties with their uniforms. A bunch of girls had rolled their skirts up. Almost everyone had replaced the belt with a chain, or ripped out the hems so that the edges of the uniforms were frayed. The adults who were milling about and breaking up fights didn't make a huge deal out of it, so it must have been a normal occurrence.  
  
Finally spotting his trunk, Harry walked over and dislodged it from the pile, and was immediately shoved out of the way by an older student. After a few moments of looking around, Harry managed to figure out that people were lining up with their trunks to have them checked for outlawed material.  
  
Harry got into line behind a tall student who was much older than him. The sun soon became annoying hot, the heat reflected back at them from the asphalt. A bunch of older students weren't bothering with the slow- moving lines. Instead, they were standing around in groups, talking and laughing. A couple were break dancing, and another group were playing a form of basketball with a hat stolen off a newbie, as Harry had begun to consider himself and the other people his age.  
  
Carlos was standing in a different line, talking to a group of people that he must've met in the previous years he was there. Harry couldn't help but think that, right now, he would probably be eating lunch at the Weasley's homely little kitchen table.  
  
Currently, in Harry's line, a student his age with black hair falling in a bowl shape and the brightest blue eyes Harry had ever seen was being forced by a teacher to empty his pockets. It was almost funny, as the boy had quite a lot in his pockets. A magazine, a bunch of pieces of paper, a pencil, half of a granola bar, half of a pen, more paper, the other half of the pen...  
  
A bunch of older kids switched lines to talk to the person in front of Harry. Being a newbie, Harry quickly got used to being ignored. _Maybe being ignored is a good thing here_, Harry thought to himself. Nonetheless, he did feel a little bit lonely.  
  
Out of boredom, Harry half-listened to the conversation of the boys in front of him, "Dude, there are eight newbie Freaks this year. _Eight_!"  
  
"A better turnout than last year for them. They must be so proud."  
  
"Think we dare mess with them?"  
  
"Oh, we dare. It'd just be a really bad idea."  
  
"You two might, but no way am I getting on the bad side of a Freak. Did you hear about James?"  
  
"Who didn't hear about James? That was last year, I think that Freak graduated..."  
  
"It still wouldn't be a good idea, man."  
  
Afraid of being noticed, Harry stopped listening, his head buzzing. What was a Freak? They said it like it was a title, not an insult. The line moved up, and the older guys stopped their conversation, as they were nearing the adults who were checking the bags.  
  
Thankfully, the older students got through relatively quickly. Harry saw one of them sneak something that looked suspiciously like a firework in behind his back. The student in front of him was getting checked out, and Harry decided it was best to pay attention.  
  
The staff member, a middle aged man who was still in fighting condition and had a gun near his left foot, looked at a list and prepared to check something off, "Name?" The man's voice was bored, but his brown eyes were alert as he watched the students.  
  
"Jesse Gameswell."  
  
"Magical or non-magical?" Harry blinked, surprised. _But this isn't...._ He thought hopelessly to himself totally mystified.  
  
"Magical." The teacher marked something on his clipboard  
  
"Wizard?"  
  
"Yep. And a slight, slight empath." Another mark.  
  
"Open your trunk." Jesse dropped his trunk to the ground and knelt to flick open the clasps. He stayed on the ground as he moved through his perfectly organized items, naming them as he went along, "Uniforms... more clothes... socks... other shoes... alarm clock... book... music stuff... bathroom stuff..." The teacher watched carefully, but decided that Jesse didn't have anything against the rules. When he was done, the staff member handed him a slip from a box on the ground and said in the same, bored voice, "Wait over there a moment..."  
  
The staff member turned to Harry, saying mechanically, "Name."  
  
"Harry Potter." The man's eyes flicked to Harry's forehead, the first person to do that so far, possibly because Harry's hair had grown long enough to totally cover the scar.  
  
"Magical?"  
  
"Yes. Wizard." The teacher marked some things on his clipboard, and then nodded to Harry.  
  
"Open your trunk."  
  
Harry obligingly went through all of his possessions, which weren't many. He suddenly felt foolish for hiding his magical items. _This must be what Dumbledore was hinting at_, Harry realized. Despite his discovery, Harry still wasn't happy about staying at St. Brutes. He had the feeling that the older students would not get nicer to the newbies as the semester went on.  
  
The man nodded as Harry finished, looking through a box and pulling out a slip, which he handed to Harry. At a glance, Harry could see that it was a schedule. He closed and picked up his trunk as the teacher said, "Jesse, the is Harry's first year at any St. Brutus' facility. Show him around and get him settled in, alright? I hope you don't mind missing lunch, because it's nearly over."  
  
Harry went over to stand by Jesse apprehensively. The older boy's friends were back, and one of them said loudly, "C'mon Gameswell! You don't have to show no newbie around just cause some teach told you to!"  
  
Jesse shrugged, idly feeling his short, neat, white spikes to see if they were still perfect, "It's no big deal guys, I'll meet you after I'm done showing the kid around." His friends rolled their eyes, but left talking idly of getting some lunch before the cafeteria closed.  
  
Jesse turned to look at Harry, the small, silver hoop in his left earlobe catching the light. He was tall, with lightly tanned skin and icy blue eyes. He was tall, and looked to be about 17, "Your name's Harry?" At the boy's wordless nod, Jesse continued, "I'm Jesse, or Gameswell. I go by either. Let's see your slip." Jesse led him over to the side of the building, where they wouldn't be in anyone's way.  
  
Incredibly thankful that someone nice was going to show him around, Harry handed over the paper. Gameswell's eyes flicked over it as he fiddled with his spiked collar. He handed it back to Harry and walked around the side of the building, avoiding the main entrance, "Newbies like you shouldn't use the front entrance, a lot of older students hang out there who might give you some trouble. Use a side door. You'll get a map later, the building's layout is pretty straight forward."  
  
Jesse held a door open for Harry, and then continued leading down the hall, "You're in the West Hall dorm, room A19, it's on your slip. That's good, it's far away from East Hall. Whatever you do, don't go in East Hall. The Freaks' dorm is there. Don't go there for _any_ reason, even with an invitation."  
  
Gameswell saw Harry's confused look, and explained, "You saw the group of boys and girls who seemed... off? Those are the Freaks. Everyone else here is a wizard or an empath – people who do wandless spells with emotions – but only empaths with a lot of power or other really powerful 'magical beings' who happen to be juvenile delinquents are Freaks. There's a rumor that someone was killed by being touched by a Freak last year. In any case, he died in the East Hall. The girls' Secure Center doesn't have a Freak Hall, so they get to be part of St. Brutus'."  
  
They traveled down various halls as he continued to explain, "Dorms are in East Hall, West Hall, and North Hall. South Hall is the cafeteria and rec room. There isn't space for newbies there either. Of the dorms, only East Hall has an actual hallway before you get to the dorm. The classrooms are in the other halls that go in different directions. Magical classes are in the Arts Hall. On your slip, you're assigned 'chores.' They start tomorrow. Basically, you stand in the kitchen, or the rec hall, or wherever for an hour while the staff does the work."  
  
As they passed through a set of double doors, Jesse added, "We're in West Hall now. This level is the Counselor's rooms and meeting room. Every night we get 'counseling' which is playing cards while they tell us to be happy. A lot of people sleep, too."  
  
Glancing at Harry's clothes, his mentor asked, "You didn't bring any other stuff, did you? Black jeans?" Harry shook his head, and Jesse grinned, "You can buy something on your first trip out. The dress code relaxes more as the year goes on. By the third week, most people are wearing black jeans and grey T-shirts. I'm sure your roommate will help you fix up your uniform, though. Your rommie will either be your age or a year older, so you don't have to worry about hazing. You'll get a key at tonight's meeting. Always, always lock your door. _Seriously_."  
  
As they climbed a stairwell, Gameswell continued, "People who aren't newbies sometimes use the fire escape instead of the stairs. I wouldn't suggest it. Don't panic over homework, no one expects you to do it anyway. Just do an assignment in each class every week and you get an A. It's impossible to flunk out, so hardly anyone does anything anyhow."  
  
They reached Harry's level and he was shown around, where the showers, snack and soda machines were, "Always keep change or food with you. People sometimes charge newbies a fee for using the stairs and things. Oh, and keep your hair over your scar. We're used to all sorts here, but you don't want to stick out."  
  
Jesse found Harry's room and pushed the door open, leaning causally against the wall, watching the newbies as they passed, "Looks like this is an all-newbie level. That's good. I'm on fifth level, four up from here. A lot of stairs. If you need some help, I'm room E04. People give you trouble on the way up there, just tell them that I wanted to talk to you. See ya at the meeting." They shared a grin and Gameswell turned to walk down the hall, the newbies giving him plenty of room.  
  
Harry walked into his room and set his trunk on the bed to the right. There were two twin beds, one on each side, that came with two grey sheets, a black blanket, and a black pillow. There were also two desks each equipped with one of the most scratched up plastic chairs that Harry had ever seen. Immediately to the right and left of the door, before the beds, were two sets of drawers, each with a sink on top and mirror against the wall. Between that and the beds were two closets, with thin curtains instead of doors.  
  
The other bed had already been taken and half-made, clothes packed into drawers that were still hanging open. Harry put away his clothes, placed his books on the desk, and threw the bedding into relatively the right places, and sat cross legged on the bed, waiting for him roomie to come back.  
  
Sure enough, Harry had been sitting only moment before his roommate made an appearance. He was the boy with the black hair and blue eyes who had so many things in his pockets. The boy half smiled as he continued unpacking, "Hey. I'm Rafael Danatello. Call me that and die, though. My name is RD, my initials."  
  
They finished introductions and fell silent as RD continued to put things away, obviously not keen on conversation. He had a stereo and several CDs, which he got out of his trunk. He ignored his stereo after he finally managed to get it working, turning it off and listening to his walkman for a moment. Then, RD glanced at Harry's clothes, "_All _your clothes look like that?"  
  
Harry shrugged, "Yeah, I guess. This is my first year at any St. Brutus' place, so I guess it didn't occur to me to change anything." RD blinked, as if amazed. He rolled his eyes, and put one of his booted feet onto the bed with him, "There is no way I'm spending all year with a geek for a roommate."  
  
RD pulled pocket knife out of his bag, which he threw, closed, at Harry, "Open that and come over here." With a shrug, Harry did so, "Sit." Still seeming nonchalant, Harry sat. RD took the knife back and taught Harry how to fix the hems of his pants, and take the collar off of his shirt, with the promise that on their first weekend, he would get Harry some real clothes, all for the reason that he didn't want a roommate who was a geek.  
  
A bell went off, and RD blinked, "Oh... our floor meeting just started. I think I'll start headn' down now." Harry hurried down after him, not wanting to be late. Even on the newbie floor, it was scary to be surrounded by so many people covered in chains, black eye liner, hair gel, and various leather and spiked jewelry. Harry wasn't sure he liked it, but he knew that St. Brute's would be nothing like Hogwarts.  
  
A/n – Done! I'm in a competition with one of my friends for longest chapters. Can you tell?


	3. two

Disclaimer – Not mine.

A/n – Before I get flamed by my nonexistent reviewers, I'm not a prep or something trying to describe the gothic anti-fashion statement when I repeatedly mention the same things. My and my philosophic goodness are actually in the gothy-punky group, such as it exists, in my school. I'm talking mostly from Harry's POV. He doesn't seem like the rocker type to me. If I do any music clips... It'll be American mainstream stuff like Nirvana, cause I don't know what they listened to in England in 1984-ish. It'll all be mainstream, because otherwise, I'd have to hunt down a million small town artists so each character could like a band that the rest of the people don't know about. Sorry bout that.

Jikan no yume – and again with the sleepyness  
  
**Chapter Two  
**  
Harry followed the crowd to the stairwell, and down one flight of stairs to the counselors' level. The stairwell was made all of grey cement blocks, with rough, black railing. Harry learned to appreciate that texture after he was repeatedly slammed against it on the way down.  
  
All of West Hall filed slowly down the stairs, most a good ten or fifteen minutes late. They came to stand in a grey, open space, with double doors leading to the rest of the school, a door into the counselors' rooms, and the doors to the stairwell. The fluorescent lights shone down from the ceiling, with the classic ceiling tiles, white and full of dots. The light bounced off of the ugly, grey tiles and the cement walls.  
  
Harry stood around awkwardly for a moment, as RD was talking to his numerous friends, and Carlos didn't seem to be part of West Hall. Thankfully, Jesse Gameswell soon appeared with the rest of his friends. He separated himself from the group and leaned against the wall that Harry was standing by.  
  
"No friends yet? No problem, come over with us." Harry nodded and, albeit reluctantly, allowed himself to be towed over to meet Jesse's friends. While the counselors for West Hall were slowly deciding what to say, Gameswell introduced his friends in the West Hall.  
  
There was Kyle, who had been on Harry's plane, who was short for being sixteen, with slightly pale skin, and cold, brown eyes. His best friend was Alexander (Zander), who had platinum blond hair cut short, tanned skin, and eyes of a strange electric yellow. Zander was, apparently, ecstatic about soccer, and planned to join the soccer 'team' that played games in the dorm hallway.  
  
There were several other seventeen-year-olds, a redhead named Jeff, a short Korean boy who went by his last name, Park, and a tall, thin boy with dark skin named Bryan. They, naturally, objected to having Harry hang around, "But he's a _newbie_!" Jeff protested immediately.  
  
Gameswell rolled his eyes, "You're certainly observative. That's the point. It's stupid for a newbie to walk around alone, with the Freaks here and everything. And it's just for today. Deal with it, Jeff." Embarrassed, Harry turned his attention to the counselors as the older students switched the conversation to another topic.  
  
There were three counselors for West Hall. Two of them seemed to be in their late twenties, both were armed. Of the two armed 'counselors,' was someone with brown hair in a buzz cut and green eyes, the other had short, messy blond hair, blue eyes, and an easy smile, totally contradictory to the fact that his gun was ready, if one of the students got too rowdy. The third counselor actually seemed to be a counselor. He looked like the average middle-aged guy, with mud- colored hair and matching eyes, hidden behind silver-rimmed glasses. He wasn't armed.  
  
The blond cleared his throat as the green-eyed counselor hypocritically yelled for silence. When most people had ceased their conversations to quietly play cards or whisper to each other, the blond said, "And _here_ we are, another damn year at St. Brutus'. I'm sure you all are as _eager_ as I am to become _friends_ with your counselors and become _better people_," His voice was incredibly dry, and a few boys chuckled, "For all of you new kids, I'm David. The guy with the glasses is Dr. Robert, and the counselor looking like he would love to rip off your head, Nathan, is named Rick."  
  
"We have a few things to say, and then you can go back to whatever you were doing. Don't kill the newbies. Stay _out _of East Hall. Don't light the trashcans on fire in 'celebration' of a new year. And at least _try_ to do some schoolwork this year. The general schedule is printed on the bulletin board," He motioned to the paper on the board attached to the double doors out to the rest of the school, "Since it's the first day, we're not doing anything until dinner, and don't have counseling. You'll be woken at 5:50. Everyone must take a shower, eat breakfast in the cafeteria and be in class by 7. Power to the lights of the school is cut at 11, when you should probably go to sleep. If you really want to, you can wander around in the pitch black halls indefinitely, but I wouldn't suggest it. That's about it, tough luck if you missed lunch, you'll just have to be hungry for the next... 6 hours until dinner at seven. Grab a map as you leave, your keys should be laying on your beds now."  
  
David, Dr. Robert, and Rick wandered into their rooms, and chaos erupted as everyone got up and started talking again, spreading into the other parts of the Center, and back up to the dorms. Before he and his friends walked away, Gameswell suggested, "You should lock your door before you do anything, so your key isn't stolen, then figure out where all your classes are. People normally go to class on the first day."  
  
Gameswell was pulled away by his friends before Harry could respond. Taking the advice, Harry grabbed a map and made his way up the stairs, carefully staying out of everyone's way. The students were ten times louder than any students at Hogwarts, always yelling and pushing each other in the halls. By the time Harry found his room again, RD had already taken his key and left, thankfully forgetting to lock Harry's key inside.  
  
Harry put his key in his pocket and locked himself inside the room. Sitting on his bed, Harry picked up his schedule, looking it over.  
  
A DAY

Class Period Location

Science 1 Southwest Hall, room 78

Language 3 Southeast Hall, room 36

Geometry 5 Southeast Hall, room 58

Break 7

Lunch 8 Cafeteria

Break 9

Gym 10 Gymnasium

Euro History 12 Northwest Hall, room 103  
  
B DAY

Class Period Location

M. History 1 Arts Hall, room 153

Defense 3 Arts Hall, room 178

M. Creatures 5 Arts Hall, room 167

Break 7

Lunch 8 Cafeteria

Break 9

3D design 10 ES Hall, room 127

Technology 11 ES Hall, room 141

S. Spells 12 Arts Hall, room 162  
  
Chore – Lunch Prep, period 7, cafeteria  
  
After he was done locating all of his classrooms on the map, Harry stood in his room for a moment, trying to decide if it was best to find all the rooms now and getting caught by an older student, or worse, a Freak, or if he'd rather just be lost on the first and second days of class. On top of that, even his fellow newbies were plenty intimidating.  
  
Finally, Harry compromised on a search for a snack machine, seeing as he hadn't eaten since the grapefruit quarter for breakfast. Harry grabbed his wand from its place in a drawer, folded up the map and schedule, and shoved them all in his pockets.  
  
After securely locking his door, and reminding himself repeatedly that if he didn't get in anyone's way, he shouldn't be bothered, Harry made his way down the hall of his floor and towards the stairwell, trying to avoid meeting anyone's eyes. It wasn't too hard, as everyone else were hanging out with their friends from previous years.  
  
Harry kept to the edge of the stairwell, especially when a bunch of older students ran down past him, as if he was invisible. Not that Harry minded. He certainly didn't want to make friends with any of these people. They were all delinquents, and Slytherins if he ever saw one. And all of them had to have done something to get sent there in the first place. Harry definitely didn't want to get to know anyone.  
  
Through the double doors leading to the rest of the school was a large room with a few couchs and a lot of students. Harry considered getting something from the vending machines there, but took a second look at the company. There were no newbies.  
  
Harry skirted around the room, and made his way into a door – one that was _not_ labeled 'East Hall.' He really did make his way into it, as it was opened in his face and hit him in the nose, rather hard. Hard enough to throw Harry against the wall as the door was opened to its full extent. Harry's vision went blurry and black as he hit the wall.  
  
A female voice above him said, "Oh... Oh... Shit, he doesn't look so good..." The voice's hand's pushed him into a sitting position. Another pair took their place as the voice's hands lightly touched his nose, "It doesn't seem broken... Thank goodness..."  
  
Harry blinked rapidly, managing to clear his vision. The girl with the blue hair from the plane was kneeling in front of him, seeming worried, the first expression the Harry had seen on her face. A Freak... Harry thought in horror, wondering why he hadn't died yet or something. If being touched by a Freak could kill someone, having a door slammed into them ought to do it. Two more girl Freaks, about a year older than Harry, and two guy Freaks, who seemed to be sixteen or seventeen, stood over them, expressions impossible for his hazy mind to read. Harry's skin crawled from being so close to the Freaks. Gameswell was right – there was something wrong about them.  
  
The second thing that Harry noticed was that the room, which was formerly full of senior students being incredibly loud, was now full of whispers, which seemed even louder to Harry, "Relax, Noxy. It wasn't even you who opened the door." The male voice came from behind Harry, from whoever was holding him up.  
  
"Let's get him out of here." That was one of the standing girls, who cast a disdainful glance around at the staring students. The boy behind Harry helped him stand up. Harry could tell that by the easy way he was practically lifted to his feet that the boy behind him was a senior, or incredibly strong.  
  
Harry's head swam as he was moved, the room turning into a dizzying spiral of colors. The boy behind him let go for an instant, in which Harry started to fall forward, his limbs refusing to move fast enough to catch him. The hands caught Harry again, and he could vaguely guess that he was being dragged out of the room.  
  
Voices swam around him as Harry was half dragged and half carried down the hall, "Where can we take him? The infirmary doesn't open until next week."  
  
"We can't take him to the East Hall infirmary, it's closed too."  
  
"He's bleeding, we can't just leave him on a bench somewhere!"  
  
"Did I say that? Let's just take him up to someone's room and see what we can do there."  
  
Harry wanted to protest, but couldn't make the muscles around his mouth move. The full situation had finally gotten to him – he was being dragged into the East Hall by a bunch of Freaks, where someone had, supposedly, been killed last year. Even when he was so dazed, this didn't sound good.  
  
Despite Harry's hopes, no one stopped them in the hall. In a moment of clarity, Harry could make out two double doors with the words 'EAST DORM' written on them. He was carried up some stairs, and there was a brief discussion on who's room to take him to. Eventually, another door was opened, and the boy laid Harry down on a soft bed. Now that Harry wasn't moving, he could make out the face of the boy who had carried him up to the room.  
  
He was a senior, with a toned, tall figure. He obviously worked out. The boy's tanned skin and brownish blond hair pulled back into a short ponytail seemed pretty normal. The fact that his very light blue eyes had catlike slits proved that he was a Freak, even aside from the dark feeling that filled the room Harry was in.  
  
It was obviously a girl's room, everything was put away and the window was wide open. These dorms were a lot more colorful than the regular dorms, as someone had painted a mural on the ceiling, which Harry couldn't quite make out. There also seemed to be only one person who stayed in this room, as there was only bed.  
  
There was some opening and closing of doors, and the girl called Noxy pulled over a chair to sit next to Harry, looking down at him worriedly. The room was quiet for a moment while Harry tried to stop everything from spinning. The door opened again, and one of the other girls appeared with a box of tissues and a bottle of something.  
  
Noxy took one, folded it neatly, dabbed a little bit off the liquid from the bottle on it, and held it to Harry's forehead, slightly above his left temple. Harry was confused for half a second, until pain exploded where she was holding the tissue. That broke most of the dizziness. Harry gasped and started to sit up.  
  
Noxy pushed him easily back down, and the boy who had carried Harry to the room held him there, saying smoothly, "Relax. It's just disinfectant. We're not drugging you or anything. Just relax..." Noxy threw the tissue into a wastebasket in the corner, and Harry was startled to see that it was stained red. She expertly prepared another tissue, which she held against Harry's forehead as she had done with the previous one.  
  
Three tissues later, Noxy nodded to the senior, who helped Harry to a sitting position. Glancing around, Harry could see that the other Freaks weren't there. Noxy looked around for the cap to the bottle of disinfectant, while the senior took her chair in front of Harry, peering at him out of disconcerting eyes. Harry had the feeling of his mind being ripped in half and shuffled through, and then he was back to normal. The senior leaned back, obviously having found what he was looking for.  
  
"Don't worry, you still only have one scar on your forehead, Potter." The senior's voice was smooth and ethereal, but not altogether unfriendly. Harry's breath caught in his throat. Gameswell had been right – the Freaks were dangerous.  
  
The senior continued as if nothing had happened, "You're obviously feeling better. Or, at least, more aware. Sorry about the thing with the door and all. That's Noel for you. Or possibly, that's Leslie for you. No one can tell those two apart, because they're twins," He grinned hopelessly and shrugged, "I'm Nathaniel, but I go by Nathan." Nathan nodded to Noxy, "That's Nox. Or Noxa, or Noxy, whatever. Or even Nix or Nixie. She has a lot of nicknames."  
  
Finally finding the cap, Nox wrinkled her nose and turned to shuffle around on her desk. She showed a lot more emotion around fellow Freaks. Nathan noticed Harry's wary silence and said calmly, "We're not going to suck your brains out or whatever they say we do. Nox is the only current Freak who does things like than and she's wearing gloves. If we were going to kill you, we would've gotten on with it already."  
  
Saving Harry the embarrassment of trying to respond, Nox discovered the unopened health bar that she had been looking for, and tossed it to Harry, "Eat that, you're probably hungry, and dinner isn't for a good few hours yet."  
  
Nathan rolled his eyes, "It's the average zero-calorie, tasteless, hard thing that Nixie is too thin to be eating. It gives you a lot of energy really fast, though. Think you can walk now?" Nathan asked Harry, cutting off the newbie girl's retort.  
  
Speaking for the first time, Harry responded, "Yeah... Thanks for fixing my cut, or whatever..." He raised a hand to his temple, and was startled to realize that he couldn't feel anything. Harry blinked in surprise, looking curiously at the two Freaks. They still gave off a creepy, dark feeling, but Harry was getting used to ignoring it.  
  
Nox, unable to stand still, walked over to her closet, "You still have a reddish line. It'll fade. The disinfectant stuff is really cool. Jasmine made it, right?" Nathan nodded, getting up from his chair and stretching in a catlike fashion that went perfectly with his queer eyes.  
  
"Nix and I will walk you down to your dorm, incase people try to ask questions. Try not to tell everyone in the school that we helped you, though. We only help other students about once every two years, I wouldn't want to ruin our reputation as the monsters under the bed of St. Brutes," Nathan said with a grin. Harry laughed at that and got to his feet without any trouble.  
  
Nox pulled a black trench coat out from the closet and put it on as she stood to the side, letting Nathan lead the way out. As Nathan was opening the door, Nox warned Harry in her usual quiet cryptic voice, "If anyone in the East Hall starts staring at your throat all funny, don't worry. They won't try to attack with Nathan here. Not all Freaks are nice, you know."  
  
Harry gulped and followed Nathan out of the door, walking to the left of him and to the right of Nix as they made their way down the stairs and through East Hall, which was, surprisingly, an actual hall. There were unmarked doors on each side of the hall, but Harry didn't get a chance to look at them as Nathan strode purposefully towards the double doors.  
  
As the Freaks left through the main double doors and into the room with the couches, they seemed to grow several inches in confidence, demanding the usual level of fear, uneasiness, and respect. They got it. Some of the normal students stared openly at Harry, as if they didn't expect to see him alive, but most just avoided looking at the Freaks, so didn't notice Harry walking between them.  
  
Nathan pushed open the door as Noxa whispered in her creepy voice, "See ya at dinner, Harry." Both of them were wearing empty, expressionless masks. Even Nox, who was a newbie like Harry, seemed to be used to the stares.  
  
The moment they swept out of West Hall, Gameswell came over, looking at Harry worriedly. He obviously thought that Harry was his responsibility. Before he could start demanding the story, Zander said wonderingly, "Did you really get taken into East Hall?"  
  
Harry shrugged, not wanting to 'ruin' the Freaks' reputation. Kyle rolled his eyes, "If he's not talking, then it obviously didn't happen." The rest of Gameswell's friends seemed to agree, and they filtered off in different directions. Gameswell himself, however, obviously thought that the whole thing had actually happened.  
  
Gameswell put a hand on Harry's shoulder and towed him up the staircase. The Boy Who Lived realized, ironically, that he was more afraid of the normal students, especially the seniors, than he was of the Freaks. Jesse pushed upon the door of the fifth level. Several seniors looked curiously at the newbie intruding on their level. Harry wanted to melt into the floor. All of the seniors looked incredibly strong, and even Gameswell's friends from downstairs, some of which seemed like halfway decent people, obviously had no troubles with literally throwing newbies out of the way, if they were somewhere that newbies weren't supposed to go. The other seniors didn't look anywhere near so nice, staring dangerously at Harry through drippy eyeliner.  
  
Jesse opened his door without his key, as a senior, he really didn't have any reason to lock it, and pushed Harry in first. Gameswell's roommate was sitting on the bed, tinkering on a laptop computer. Gameswell motioned for Harry to sit on his bed, as he addressed his roommate, "Hey Leo. Mind stepping outside while I talk to the kid?" Harry looked at the room in wonder. Gameswell's side was as immaculate as his perfect hair and clothes, with only the bare necessities unpacked. Leo's side was messy, covered in CDs, and various pieces of alarm clocks and CD players.  
  
Leo grinned at the newbie, pushing a stray, green hair behind his ear. He left the room, taking his laptop with him. Gameswell pulled the chair out from underneath his desk and sat on it backwards, looking at Harry, "So exactly what happened after the meeting?"  
  
Harry hesitated, before explaining, "I walked along the edge of the big room out there, and stopped at some unmarked door. I was about to open it, but a Freak, someone either named Noel or Leslie, slammed it open, and I got hit in the head and shoved against the wall. Two Freaks named Nathaniel and Noxa were worried about me. I think I might have passed out for a bit. They were going to take me to an infirmary, but they aren't open yet.  
  
"So they dragged me into the East Hall – I couldn't move or talk, for some reason, but it wasn't a spell they did on me or anything. They put me in Noxa's room and got some Kleenex and disinfectant, which they used on a cut I got, but I didn't feel it until then. Apparently, it was pretty deep, but a Freak made the disinfectant, so it healed the cut. Nox gave me something to eat and then they took me back down here."  
  
Gameswell sighed in relief, "I thought they were gonna _kill_ ya, man!"  
  
Shrugging, Harry responded, "So did I. And they said that most Freaks aren't nice like them, and I shouldn't tell a lot of people what happened so that their reputation wouldn't be 'ruined.'" To the newbie's immense surprise, Gameswell nodded, carefully tucking the chair back under his desk.  
  
"Yeah, there was a rumor that a Freak named Nathaniel helped a normal kid a few years ago, but I just thought that it was a rumor." He crossed the room and opened his door suddenly, causing Leo to fall on his face. His ear had been pressed against the door.  
  
Leo sprang back to his feet, green eyes dancing, "Hey there. I can't imagine how I fell like that. It's odd, really." He looked at Harry, almost bouncing with energy that had been formerly channeled into his laptop, "You were in the East Hall? I have a girlfriend there. Or, I think I have a girlfriend there. I haven't seen her so far this year. Goes by the name of Jasmine."  
  
Jesse rolled his eyes, saying dryly, "Leo is sixteen, not a senior. They ran out of room on his level. Can you tell?" Leo didn't take offense, and merely grinned. Gameswell added, "And he either has ADD or is on speed. I can't really say."  
  
Sitting on his bed and beginning to type furiously, Leo responded, "Yeah, yeah. Let's all make fun of the guy with ADD. I'd rather be hyper than a neat freak." They were obviously good friends, as Gameswell merely laughed and stopped straightening his perfect desk.  
  
Jesse looked at the clock, noticing how it was almost time for dinner, "I'm going to escort the newbie to dinner, so he isn't eaten alive by seniors on the way to the stairwell." Harry stood up and followed Jesse out of the room. Leo continued playing on his laptop, not even looking up.  
  
Gameswell led the way to the stairs. Harry still got predatory glances from the seniors, but ignored them. He was getting the general idea of St. Brute's now. Ignore and be ignored by people older than you, act like an equal to people your age, and you don't get into much trouble. Act like you're afraid of everyone and you become an obvious target.  
  
When they reached the main floor or West Hall, Gameswell obviously noticed that Harry didn't seem so intimidated as usual, because he merely gave Harry directions as to how to get to the cafeteria and left to talk to his friends. As Harry went into the large room with the couches, he reminded himself that he didn't stand out and the seniors probably couldn't tell one newbie from another. Sure enough, no one noticed that he was the boy who was walking with the Freaks.  
  
On the way to the cafeteria, Harry decided that he rather liked not having too many friends. He really liked having hardly anyone know or care that he was the Boy Who Lived. Despite the fact that he was no longer terrified of his peers and their metal and leather jewelry, it was still a little surprising to walk into the cafeteria to a mass of people that he had never seen the like of at Hogwarts. There was hardly anyone there who didn't have spiked or colored hair, and who wasn't wearing any necklaces and bracelets that were normally found on bulldogs.  
  
"Hey!" greeted a cheerful voice from behind him. Harry turned to see Carlos, who was, for the moment, not hanging out with a million other people.  
  
"Hey," Harry said back, following Carlos as he led the way to the trays and got in line for dinner, in the style of a muggle high school cafeteria. As they waited in the incredibly long line, Harry looked around at the rest of the room. There were long, rectangular, speckled blue tables – the type that have circular stool things attached. The room was vaguely square, the doors on one side, the serving places squished up against the next side with the door to the kitche, a small stage with a podium on the third, and a blank, grey wall for the other side.  
  
Carlos grinned at Harry as the line finally started moving, "You've finally gotten more relaxed," he observed, "Or do you still think that we'll rip out your heart and eat it for breakfast?" Harry was about to respond, when Nix walked through the doors and moved to get in line. She had cut off her skirt so that it was much shorter, but wasn't a miniskirt, and still had her chain belt. She had added handfuls of thin, black velvet bracelets and chokers. Her hair was still in the bun, held back with more black velvet. Black gloves ended sharply at her wrists. She had also cut off the sleeves of her uniform shirt, but kept the collar. Carlos whispered, "_We_ won't rip your heart out, but I bet a girl like that could. She's _hot_."  
  
Harry smothered a laugh as Nox neared. Her black lips quirked into a smile as she nodded to Harry, before getting into the end of the line, "That's Nox," Harry explained, "We met earlier today. She's a Freak. Something tells me that she's not interested in getting a normal student as a boyfriend." Carlos' eyebrows rose in a silent question, but Harry shook his head, refusing to answer.  
  
They helped themselves to school pizza, which looked surprisingly good, sodas and some of the various mini bags of chips. They didn't have to check out, as it was paid for by the school. Harry and Carlos took a seat next to Carlos' friends. Thankfully, Carlos kept talking to Harry as opposed to ignoring him in favor of his friends from previous years.  
  
Nox walked over to the table, her black combat boots clicking smartly on the floor. She sat directly across from Harry – which happened to be next to Carlos. Some of Carlos' friends seemed more than a little bit uneasy over having a Freak sit at their table, but Nox ignored them.  
  
She half smiled at the Boy Who Lived, saying in her creepy voice, "Hey, Harry," before biting into her pepperoni pizza. Carlos stared at the girl for a moment, trying to figure out why she had taken an interest in Harry, of all people. Shivering, he looked away and joined in a conversation with the rest of his friends, who were also trying to ignore the Freak.  
  
Instead of getting offended, Nix simply smiled quietly to herself as she ate dinner. There were only a few minutes of silence at Harry's end of the table before the doors opened and an adult walked it. The room hushed slightly, but only because people stopped their conversations to turn and look at the man before going back to eating and talking.  
  
He had short, black hair that was greying at the temples, and grey eyes as cold as the stone St. Brutes was made out of. He was obviously in good shape, despite his age. Unlike the other members of the staff that Harry had met, this man wasn't wearing casual jeans. Instead, he was wearing black dress pants and coat, with a sober grey shirt.  
  
The man walked up the stairs to the podium, and flipped on the mic, which made a high, ringing sound echo through the room from various speakers. When he was sure that he had the students' attention, the man adjusted the microphone and said in a cold, crisp voice, "Welcome, students, to another year at St. Brutus' Secure Center. I am Mr. Scheldon, your principal. We hope that this year will be a profitable experience for all involved..."  
  
Carlos tapped Harry on the shoulder, whispering, "Don't bother to listen. The counselors said all the important stuff the at the floor meetings." Harry nodded his thanks to Carlos. Looking around, he noticed that people were quite obviously ignoring the principal. Gameswell was laughing with his friends over some whispered comment regarding the principal. Leo really did seem to have a Freak for a girlfriend, as he was sitting with a tall girl. They went well together. Jasmine's hair was dyed all different colors. Her clothes were black, but she was wearing mass amounts of colorful jewelry.  
  
However, most of the Freaks weren't in the cafeteria. Mr. Scheldon's speech lasted a few more minutes, then he left, taking any amount of quiet with him. Carlos and his friends stood up. He told Harry, "M'room's A07, North Hall. See ya in class," before being jostled out of the room by the crowd he hung out with. Nox's pizza disappeared, and she started on a doughnut, calm and expressionless.  
  
The doors opened again, and a large group of Freaks entered the cafeteria. As most people were almost done with dinner, there was no line for food. Moments later, the Freaks took the place of Carlos and his friends. A tall, newbie Freak sat down on Harry's right. He had Asian skin, but his black hair was grown out, streaked orange, and pulled into a short ponytail.  
  
Another newbie, guy Freak sat on Harry's other side. A sock hat covered all of his hair, the edge coming down so that it nearly covered his sleepy, amber eyes. His skin was a similar color, his frame lean and strong. One of the older girls spoke up, her violet eyes locking on Harry and Nox, "Hey. You two're Harry and Nox, right?" they nodded, "I'm Joss, that's Damon," she nodded to the Asian boy, "And that's Kael." She nodded to the boy with the amber eyes, "You already know him, Nox."  
  
Most of the Freaks either smiled at the newbies present, or kept the empty masks they used around normal students, as they _were_ in the cafeteria. Damon didn't seem to be too interested in conversation with his fellow newbies. Instead, he talked in a fast-paced, foreign language to someone who looked like his brother.  
  
Harry guessed, and hoped, that these were some of the nicer Freaks, not the ones that Nox had warned him about as they left her room earlier that day. Kael turned to Harry, saying a lethargic voice that matched his eyes, "You find your classrooms for tomorrow yet?"  
  
Harry shrugged, "I was planning to, but didn't get around to it." Kael doubtlessly already knew Harry's story. There seemed to be only around thirty Freaks, including the dangerous ones. Word probably traveled fast with them.  
  
Kael nodded, "Same here. Want to go find them after dinner? I have no sense of direction. Couldn't make any sense out of the friggin map. You can come to, Nixie." He finished, slowly shifting his gaze to fix on the girl. Nox nodded her consent, as did Harry.  
  
Despite how tired Kael seemed to always be, he often surprised Harry with his concealed, sarcastic intelligence. Nox was quiet throughout the meal. She seemed to like watching people, observing how they acted. It was a little disconcerting, but most times she was just waiting for their attention to murmur a comment in her deathly voice. Nathaniel appeared for a little, taking a seat next to Joss.  
  
When Nox finished, Harry and Kael rose to their feet as well, dumping their remaining food in the trashcans, and dropping their trays in the designated spot. Standing in the hall outside of the cafeteria, they pulled out their maps. They were in the same science, history, and math classes and had gym the same period, but none of Harry's B day classes lined up with the others, as he wasn't a Freak.  
  
Gameswell was right – the school had a very simple layout. The only weird things were that the Arts and ES Halls weren't actually halls, but large buildings to the right and left of the main building. Their location was a bit of a problem, as, on B days, Harry had to go from a class in the ES Hall all the way to a class in the Arts Hall.  
  
Kael, who had been going to a St. Brute's school for a few years, told Harry not to worry, as most people were ten or fifteen minutes late to class on the occasions that they showed up at all, "Most people just hang in their dorms," Kael explained, "The older kids hang in the rec room, or the roof of their dorm. Least, that's what I've been told. I don't know where newbies like us – newbies like you – can be without running into trouble, though."  
  
Harry glanced at Kael, "Newbies like me?"  
  
Kael rolled his eyes, like he usually did when someone didn't get what he said. It was all obvious to him, but he was practically a genius, "Freaks don't run into trouble much, 'less it's from some of the older Freaks – not the ones in our group, but the ones that really _are_ a danger to the rest of the school. As a regular newbie, you'll probably get your share of bruises."  
  
Rolling his eyes, Harry responded sarcastically, "Thanks for the sympathy, there." Part of him was shocked at his own response, but it seemed right to be sarcastic and cynical in a place like this. Sure enough, Kael laughed and was about to respond, when Nox spoke up in her quiet voice.  
  
"Uh... guys, I think we're pretty damn lost. I have no _clue_ where we are." The map was passed around, and they had almost decided which direction to move in, when all the lights went out. Harry lost his footing and leaned against the wall. It really was pitch black, as the lights were gone and there were no windows.  
  
Kael said calmly, apparently not bothered by the dark, "Looks like it's 11 already. We need to get back to the dorms soon, if we want to get any sleep at all." He glanced at Harry, his amber eyes alert and the only thing visible in the dark, "And Harry can't see in the dark."  
  
Noxa glanced towards him, and Harry was relieved to see that her eyes weren't shining and obvious like Kael's, "Good point." Nox grabbed one of Harry's arms and Kael grabbed the other. They started walking randomly down the hall, dragging Harry along as they tried to figure out where they were.  
  
Despite the strange situation and looming darkness, Nox and Kael seemed much happier in the dark. Soon, they were all laughing and talking like normal. To Harry's surprise, they ran into a couple of senior Freaks, who rolled their eyes and directed the group to the dorms.  
  
Kael and Nox decided to walk Harry to his room, so he wouldn't have to feel his way up there. Harry unlocked the door as they were laughing over another of Kael's sarcastic comments. Harry's dorm roomed seemed incredibly bright, with the moonlight streaming through the window. Much brighter than the halls.  
  
Harry yawned and bid the disgustingly awake Freaks goodnight, shutting and locking the door as they left. RD was wide awake and sitting on his bed, "Well... Maybe you're not as much of a geek as I thought. Walking around with _two_ Freaks after lights-out?"  
  
Yawning again, Harry responded, "Yeah." And fell into his bed, rolling on his side to face the wall. He was too tired for conversation. He could hear RD turn the soothing static of Tool on softly, before they both fell asleep.  
  
A/n – If I don't get a review (from someone other than Jikan no yume, since I know her in Rea Life), I will be very ticked off. Really. I'm posting long chapters every other day, and still no one is reviewing. REVIEW!!!! Small changes were made to the second chapter. Nothing big.


	4. three

A/n- starting this chapter before a single person has reviewed. I'm pitiful. After-chapter-is-finished-A/n – I JUST CHECKED MY STATS AND I HAVE A REVIEW!!!!!! THANK YOU A.L.!!!!  
  
Chapter Three  
  
A symbol crashed through the first level of West Hall. Harry jerked upright, trying to figure out what woke him up. The symbols crashed over and over without a break for nearly a full minute, the noise being greeted by the heavy swearing of the juvenile delinquents.  
  
By the time the counselors went up the stairs to wake the next level, Harry had his clothes and shower things together, so he wouldn't have to wait to shower. On the wall of the showers was taped a notice:  
  
**Showers are to be only five minutes in length! If you repeatedly go beyond five minutes, someone CAN and WILL drag you out of the shower. Thank you for complying.** -

**Rick  
**  
Harry had no doubt that the counselor meant his threat, and so watched the time. He was getting out of the shower right as most people were stumbling sleepily into the room. He dropped his shower things in his dorm, made sure that he had his wand, map, and schedule with him, locked his door, and headed to the stairs to go to breakfast.  
  
He passed a bunch of kids playing blackjack on the way to breakfast. _I really should learn to expect things like this. They are juvenile delinquents, anyhow._ Harry hadn't been around very long, but could recognize this as RD's group – newbies, and a few students who weren't quite seniors. In St. Brutes, popularity was a bad thing, because it was nearly calling someone a prep. Instead, this group was considered mature enough to use the rec room, which was an accomplishment.  
  
To his surprise, RD waved him over. Harry walked over with a mental shrug, he had some time left until breakfast, "Hey," Harry greeted casually. He was surprised to see Leo playing blackjack too, as he didn't seem to know most of the group.  
  
"Hey," RD returned. Leo glanced up with a grin and folded, jumping to his feet and seeming much more awake than he should have at such an early time. RD looked at Harry, seeming to decide that he was looking un-geekish enough to be introduced to the group, "Guys, this is Harry.  
  
"Harry, this is Leo, McKay," He nodded to a rather short, fifteen-year-old, who seemed to have the temper to go with his red hair, "His younger brother, Luke," Luke looked a lot like his brother, if slightly taller and much nicer, "Tod," A short African boy with a baseball cap on backwards greeted him in a heavy American accent, "And Patch." He nodded finally to a boy who just won the game.  
  
Harry spent a few minutes standing around with the group before Leo asked, "Have ya seen your Freak friends lately? Did they mention where Jasmine is?"  
  
Harry shook his head, pushing himself off the wall that he'd been leaning on, "Haven't seen Kael or Nix today, but last night they mentioned that East Hall was having a meeting in the morning, so they would be late for breakfast." Harry looked at his watch, "Which we should go to now, if we want to get anything to eat."  
  
Nodding, Leo agreed, "Maybe we'll meet them there," before leading the way to the cafeteria with quick, bouncing steps, talking quickly of his latest attempts at hacking into the St. Brutes computer system.  
  
Blinking in surprise, Harry asked, "This place uses a computer system? Why would you want to hack into it anyway? You can't possibly be flunking anything yet." Harry was surprised at his own comment. _I'm talking with an 'incurably criminal' boy about the reasons for illegally hacking into a system!  
_  
Laughing, Leo shrugged and responded, "Just to be able to say I did it, ya know? The school _knows_ that people will try to change their grades, or just screw with their system, so it's really difficult to hack into." Before Harry could respond, they walked into the cafeteria, which was astonishingly louder than the hall.

They got some food from the line, which wasn't terribly long, and took a seat at the end of a table. Harry stared in shock at Leo's tray. He had taken two bagels, a doughnut, a bowl of cereal and a plate of scrambled eggs, which he was currently devouring. Leo looked up and noticed Harry's look. Shrugging ruefully, he explained, "I have a high metabolism. If I don't eat a lot I go all faint and stuff."  
  
Jasmine snuck up behind Leo and pulled his doughnut from his fingers right before he took his first bite. She took a seat, crossing her legs and sitting up straight with a dancer's grace, "And if you do have a high metabolism, then eating sugary things like this will only give you a headache," before Leo could object, she took a bite of the doughnut, mumbling behind her hand with a full mouth, "Ish goo!"  
  
Nix and Kael appeared at that moment, taking seats with the group. Nox was eating another health bar, while Kael had simply settled on a bagel, knowing that they didn't have time for a long breakfast. Jasmine did the introductions, telling Nox and Kael who Leo was, and reminding Leo of Kael's name.  
  
Jasmine and Leo escorted them to science, as their classes were in the same hall. Kael, Nox, and Harry shared a look, and the boys wordlessly followed Nox to the back of the class. She whispered to Kael, "Wake me when the teacher gets here," and fell asleep with her head in her arms with expert ease. Today, she was wearing gloves up past her elbows, and had the sleeves cut off of this shirt, too.  
  
Kael woke Nox the moment the teacher came into the classroom, and she leaned back in her chair, acting totally alert though her eyes were bleary from sleep. The teacher had platinum blond hair in a buzz cut, and hazel eyes. The large class, because so many students were re- taking it a second or third time, quieted, letting Harry know not to cross this one.  
  
He wrote, 'Mr. Black,' on the white board and turned around, telling the class in a severe voice, "That is my name. You will address by my name, as I will address you by yours. Nicknames for you or for me are left at the door, as are your attitudes. There is to be no back-talking, lazing, or sleeping," Harry was sure that he glanced at Nox, who stared back with empty eyes, "In this class."  
  
After Mr. Black had finished taking role, he had two boys pass out heavy, textbooks. It seemed as if nearly every page was scribbled on. The class was set to reading the first chapter, politely opting to pass notes inconspicuously as opposed to talking out loud.  
  
They jumped to their feet and ran out the door the moment that the bell went off, Nox shoving her textbook into her bag as she walked, "Most people skip that class. If you're going to skip anything, that's the one to skip."  
  
Harry was nominated by his friends to ask directions from a senior who looked as if he would literally bite a newbie's head off if given half a chance. To Harry's surprise, the guy gave them polite, clear instructions. Kael led the way down the hall, telling Harry, "Appearances can be deceiving, ya know."  
  
Just then, Leo appeared behind them and yanked Kael's hat down over his eyes, nearly low enough to meet the younger boy's chin. Leo held it there as Kael attempted to push him off, "But, then again, most people here really _are_ sadistic creeps. But that's okay, because everyone else is a creep, too. It's expected." Laughing, Leo yanked the hat off and threw it in the air, revealing Kael's incredibly amber hair for the first time. Kael grabbed his hat out of the air and shoved it back on his head, scowling for a moment before giving in and laughing with the rest of them.  
  
Jasmine joined the group as well. They passed by Harry's language classroom, a class he didn't share with any of his friends, and dropped the newbie off there. Leo glanced at the room number and grinned, "You're lucky. You got the good teacher for language. You might actually _like_ this class." Harry grinned and let himself into the room, automatically taking a seat in the back row.  
  
Harry was studying the writing on the top of the desk when a shadow moved over him. He glanced up slowly, reminding himself that people wouldn't bother him if he didn't look like a target. Standing over him was the boy who had shoved him against the wall of the bus. Harry was surprised to find that he wasn't the least bit intimidated, "Yes?" Harry asked, knowing his nonchalance would irk the other boy.

"You're in my seat," he growled, "Again." He seemed truly menacing. If Harry was still at Hogwarts he might just have fainted from terror. But after being dragged into the feared Freak Hall, sitting in a senior's dorm room, and getting lost after lights out with two Freaks, Harry wasn't that scared.  
  
Looking at the desk vaguely, Harry raised his eyebrows, "I think there's been a mistake here. You see,_ your_ seat happens to be attached to _my_ desk. And I returned your seat on the bus, so it'd only be fair if I got to keep my desk today, thanks _very_ much."  
  
The older boy was about to respond when the teacher came in. To Harry's surprise, it was David, a counselor from West Hall. The older boy grumbled and took a seat on the other side of the room. David sat on the teacher's desk at the front of the room, watching the students, "Hey! I'm David, as a lot of you all know. Lots of new people. It's good to see old faces from last year, who did _so_ well in this class that we though that they should try to do it a second time!" The class laughed at this, and David grinned  
  
"So, without further ado... for the first few weeks, as I don't have a lesson planned, we're going to be reading a book. Gulligan's Is – Gulliver's Travels! Gulliver's Travels. So, eventually we'll do a report on that... So you can grab a book from that box," He nodded to a box in the corner, "And try to read it..."  
  
Half the class, including Harry, grabbed a book and leafed through it out of boredom. He didn't know anyone in the class, which made it rather dull. He quickly located the front summary, and noticed that several other students were reading that instead, with no actual intention of reading the full book. Harry smiled to himself and followed their lead.  
  
Harry found the Geometry classroom and fell into a seat between Nox and Kael right as the bell rang. A tall, stern woman walked in, seeming even more severe than Harry's old Head of House had ever seemed. The geometry books were passed out. She told them what chapter they were on, assigned them the problems they were to do and told them to silently work them out.  
  
Naturally, the 'silently' part made most people merely whisper the answers to their neighbor, rather than yelling them across the room. Harry, who hadn't taken math since he was in elementary school, floundered for a moment with the new material.  
  
Nix noticed this and helped him out. She was actually supposed to be a full year ahead in math, but her schedule made her take geometry over again. With lots of help, Harry managed to stumble through the problems and be totally finished by the time class let out.  
  
They hurried into the hall, but Kael was held behind to retrieve his hat, which he hadn't be allowed to wear in class, "Old bat." He said, obviously not daring to swear so close to her classroom. The teacher – Professor Ladame - loomed up behind Kael.  
  
"_What_ did you say?" She crooned, obviously annoyed. Kael froze, slowly turning to face his teacher. With a moment of inspiration, Harry snatched Kael's hat off his had. Catching on, Kael said in a very fake voice, "I said – _I **can't** believe I **lost** my **hat**_."  
  
Professor Ladame scowled at them, before sweeping off. Kael grabbed his hat back, saying in annoyance, "Thanks for the help, but why is everyone stealing my hat today!?" They laughed and stood around for a moment more, before Harry remembered that he had to prepare lunch that period.  
  
Nox rolled her eyes, "Don't bother. They don't keep an actual list of who has what jobs. Just go tomorrow if you insist on helping out." Harry reluctantly complied, hanging around the hall until Leo and Jasmine appeared, then heading down to the cafeteria.  
  
The got their food and sat at an empty table. Nox just ate one of her beloved health bars, Leo got an incredible amount of food, Kael slept, Harry helped himself to a peanut butter sandwich, and Jasmine stole some of Leo's food for herself.  
  
After a few moments, Carlos and his friends appeared. They sat at the same table as Harry and his group. Carlos sat next to Harry, and they talked throughout lunch, as they didn't have any of the same classes. After lunch, Harry, Nox, and Kael spent their entire break putting their books in their rooms and hunting down the gymnasium.  
  
Gym class was, unfortunately, just like the nightmare of public high school PE. They had to change into ugly, poor-fitting uniforms, and were then forced to run around the St. Brutes campus until five minutes before the end of class. Because of that, they started to run to the history class, before Nox asked, "Remind me again _why_ we care about being late to history?"  
  
Kael blinked, and quit running, "Good point..." Although they were late to class, they still managed to arrive before the teacher. Class passed much like the rest of the morning had. They received textbooks that were a little bit more scribbled over than the others, but, other than that, it was pretty normal, and very boring. About half the class fell asleep while they were supposed to be reading the textbook.  
  
School ended at three, which was marked by a loud bell. Nox, Harry, and Kael stood awkwardly in the halls, before Leo and Jasmine came to their rescue. The older students led them to a hangout for the non-senior students that was fondly called the 'Fiesta Closet' after an episode of an American TV show.  
  
It was a really small room or two large closets fused together that was magically soundproofed and could only be locked from the inside. Several stereos were blasting the same song, at relatively the same time, in the corner, as people crammed themselves into the tiny room, taking turns breakdancing in a cleared space in the very center.  
  
The only lighting was a string of half-dead Christmas lights that were strung along the ceiling. Harry and his friends quickly made their way to the edge of the room, talking over the music. Harry quickly dropped out of the conversation. _St. Brutes is weird_, he decided, _but in a good way. They take all of the dangerous people, put them together, and somehow they don't kill each other._ The noise of heavy metal and loud voices was slightly soothing, and Harry leaned back to watch the people, noticing that Nox was doing the same.  
  
They spent some time in the cramped room, but left when it got too crowded and hot. Leo and Jasmine stayed, enjoying each other's company in a corner. They all went up to Harry's room in West Hall. There, Nox pulled a pack of cards out of her pocket, shuffling and them bridging them perfectly.  
  
"Harry, do you know how to play any card games?" And that was how it all got started...  
  
Later that afternoon, they were sitting on the main floor of West Hall, watching the jin rummy tournament that Nox had managed to stir up. The two best people were just beginning to face off, a neutral party dealing each contestant a ten-card hand, when Rick pushed open the doors.  
  
Nox bit her lip, trying not to laugh. This was obviously what she hoped would happen, as she'd told Harry and Kael to lose after one game. They ran up the stairs to Harry's room, and burst into hysterical laughter the moment Harry had closed the door.  
  
They finally managed to get control of themselves, grinning like idiots. Harry happened to glance at Kael, and his grin died, eyes growing as big as saucers. Kael raised his eyebrows, "What?" Then, he seemed to get what Harry was staring at, "Oh, yeah. That's why I'm in East Hall. I _vant_ to drink you' _blooood_." He said in a very heavy and very fake accent. It lightened Harry's mood, but just a little bit.  
  
Moments later, Leo and Jasmine burst into the room, Jasmine having used a Freak trick to unlock the door. They were laughing uncontrollably, "I can't believe you all _did_ that!" Leo laughed, flopping onto Harry's bed. With that, any lingering tenseness in the room broke, Harry next to forgetting about Kael's secret.  
  
After dinner, they split up, the Freaks going to East Hall, and Leo and Harry to West Hall. Leo went up to his room to fiddle with his laptop in the ten minutes before their first counseling session. Harry waited on the main floor of West Hall, enjoying some time to himself. He was much more tired than he ever was after a day at Hogwarts, probably because of getting up before six in the morning.

Rick retrieved the symbols from the closet, and went up to the dorms, yelling for everyone to come down. About fifteen minutes later, West Hall was all sitting almost quietly on the floor, a few people actually _looking_ at Dr. Robert. Harry listened for a few minutes, just long enough to learn that there would be a floor meeting after counseling, and then took a leaf out of Nox and Kael's book, leaning back against the wall and falling asleep.  
  
Leo tapped Harry on the shoulder, whispering, "Floor meeting's starting." Harry nodded his thanks, putting his glasses back on and focusing his attention on David.  
  
David stood up and said in a voice that was very bored, reading nearly directly from a flyer, "On Friday, the first trip into the civilized community will take place, and they have a list of newbies from the different halls that are required to go... also, several '_wholesome after-class clubs_' will be starting, the information is on the bulletin board, if hell freezes over and you all are actually listening and interested..." The students who were paying attention laughed at his sarcastic tone, while the others looked around, confused.  
  
After the meeting finished, most of the students drifted out to the rest of the school. Tired, Harry just went up to his dorm and fell asleep.  
  
Waking to the ringing crashes of symbols, Harry rolled out of bed and repeated his morning process. He was still tired and sleepy when he got down to breakfast. He was the first of the group there, and sat at a table with his eyes closed. Jasmine came over and sat across from him, concerned, "Hey there. You doin' alright?"  
  
Harry blinked, brought back to consciousness, "Just tired, I guess." Jasmine nodded sympathetically, and promised to walk him to class, in case he fell asleep in the hall, "It's something about the air in St. Brutes schools," She explained, "Being locked up without windows all day gets to you if you've never been in a place like this before."  
  
Jasmine made good on her promise, finding Harry's classroom for him and dropping him off a few minutes before the late bell. Harry struggled to seem more awake, thinking he would need the extra energy. And he did need it.  
  
Harry had always thought magical history was boring. The impulsive, eccentric Mr. Callaghan made it anything from boring. He demanded much more from the class than any of the A day teachers had, and got it. Harry had also thought that he knew a lot about magical history. That wasn't the case. He knew plenty about famous wizards, but this class was over the history of all magical communities, covering everything from the assassination of the real Lord Dracula to the war that was brewing in America between wizards and intelligent magical, 'evil' beings.  
  
They were assigned much more homework in that class as well, and Mr. Callaghan seemed to expect it done by their next magical history class, with extra credit if they got it to him before then. Harry hurried from that class to his 'defense' classroom, which was impossibly hard to find, as the Arts Hall room numbers had all been scratched off.  
  
Magical history had been hard, but defense was worse. There were no desks, and the teacher strode in moments after the bell, "Hello," His voice was as hard and unyielding as his dark eyes. He seemed to be from Italy, or somewhere near there, based on the tone of his skin. His black hair was cut short, to stay out of his eyes, "I'm Professor Velker, and in this class, you will, hopefully, learn how to defend yourself from most magical beings."  
  
The Professor started right into the day's lesson, which was much harder than any classes Harry'd taken at Hogwarts. He kept them after the bell had rung, leaving Harry only a minute or so to find his next class. He found the room right after the late bell rang, but the teacher wasn't there. Harry hurried to take the only vacant seat, as the teacher walked into the class.  
  
Mr. Fez, as his students called him, was a talkative, humorous teacher that knew much more about magical creatures than Harry would have expected. Of course, he did most of his talking while they looked up impossibly minute facts in their books as an 'easy lesson' for the first class. It was in this class that Harry realized all the students – who normally didn't give one bit of respect or notice to their teachers – had been quiet, polite, and studious in the Arts Hall. It was really quite surprising.  
  
The bell rang, and Harry thankfully left the room. One thing that he hadn't noticed on the trip to the Arts Hall in the morning was how far away the cafeteria was, and how large the campus really was. He only had fifteen minutes of break left when he reached the hall near the cafeteria.  
  
He was greeted by Leo, Jasmine, Nox, and Kael the moment he stepped into the cafeteria. To his surprise, Nox and Kael didn't seem as tired as he was. Harry helped himself to a sandwich covered in plastic wrap. He took a seat between Leo and Nox, across from Jasmine, tiredly unwrapping his squished sandwich.  
  
Leo looked at him in surprise, saying with way too much energy, "Harry? You're looking about as tired as Kael... I don't think that's a good thing, man."  
  
Wrinkling his nose, Harry responded, "I swear, the Arts Hall teachers are trying to _kill_ me. I have a report on the political situation in America due Thursday, I need to figure out how to do some spell or other for Defense, also due Thursday, and I have a packet in magical creatures, _also_ due Thursday. I'm doomed."  
  
Leo choked on his third doughnut, "That much homework?! I _never_ got homework from the Arts Hall! What teachers do you have, anyway?" Harry listed them as he ate his sandwich, resisting the urge to join Kael in a nap on the table.  
  
"You're right, you _are_ doomed," Leo said cheerfully as he got up, done with lunch, "You are in every single hard class in the Arts Hall. There's an Arts Library - room 180, you'll need it. There's one in South Hall, right next to here, but newbies can't use it."  
  
Nox paused for a moment before saying in her cryptic voice, "And now you see why people skip half of their classes. I'm going to start heading to class now, bye everyone." As Kael was in the same classes as Nox, he got up as well, following her out.  
  
Harry sighed and sat a moment longer, before nodding to Jasmine and leaving as well, knowing he would need all of break to find his next class.  
  
The ES hall was certainly a surprise. Every wall had a mural painted on it by the art students. Harry thought that this would be better called the 'Arts Hall' instead of the 'Extra Studies Hall,' which was what ES stood for. There were several classrooms that had been changed into dance studios, and people who weren't on break were hard at work in all of them.  
  
Thankfully, the room numbers were not scratched off in this Hall, so Harry found the 3D design room without trouble. He arrived in the room a few minutes before class started, when most of the students were slowly getting into chairs set up along with long tables.  
  
The 3D design teacher was a blonde woman, who obviously wasn't very happy about starting another year at St. Brutes. All that they had to do that class was watch the beginning of a movie on how not to cut your arm off during a 3D design class. Using the free time, Harry got started on magical history report, scratching out a rough draft of what he would need to research for the paper.  
  
In technology, Harry did the research for his paper, as the computers there had internet access. The teacher, a counselor named Josh from North Hall, didn't have a class plan and just let them mess around on the computers all hour, after he had passed out floppy disks that they would later save their computer projects on. Harry used it to save his magical history research.  
  
As soon as the bell signaling the end of class rang, Harry started sprinting towards the Arts Hall, across the empty and annoying vast grounds of St. Brutes. He stumbled into the Standard Spells classroom moments after the bell had rung. The teacher, a young woman who looked strong enough to take down even Rick, glanced at the roll sheet, saying smoothly, "Mr. Potter. You are late. Take your seat and don't let it happen again."  
  
Harry mumbled something and fell into a vacant seat, trying to subtly catch his breath. They passed out textbooks, and the teacher, who went by Ms. Lee, set them to mastering a charm – also due by Thursday.  
  
Realizing how much homework he had, Harry headed to the Arts Hall library, which had a vast amount of books, current and old newspapers from around the world, and computers for research. To his surprise, quite a few students were in there, working on various things.  
  
Harry worked on his magical history report – which had to be a minimum of five pages, until he grew so sick of reading American newspapers that he switched to working on the defense spell – a wandless shield, so that they could put up some sort of defense when disarmed.  
  
When the bell marking ten minutes until dinner rang, Harry realized that, to his horror, he had finished almost no work. He hurried down to the cafeteria, getting there a few minutes after the doors opened. His day finally improved when his friends had saved him a place and picked up some food for him, as the line was a mile long.  
  
Harry slipped into the seat, giving a heartfelt, "Thanks," as he started to eat as quickly as possible, knowing there was no way to finish all of his homework, even if he skipped dinner. Halfway through his pizza, something occurred to Harry, "Wait... You say it's _normal_ for people to skip half of their classes? The non-magical ones?"  
  
Nox's black lips quirked into a half-smile as she responded, "Yes. So long as you get the homework turned in – there are boxes for it outside of the classrooms that they set up today. But non-magical homework isn't so important, you don't have any to do today and you can always copy someone's. Is Mr. Goody Two Shoes actually considering _skipping class_?" She teased, actually smiling.  
  
"Just to do homework!" Harry defended himself, eating at a more sedate pace since he suddenly had much more time to do homework.  
  
"One thing leads to another," Leo warned, though they all knew that he rarely went to class at all, "I would suggest going to your language and history classes on A days, so you don't skip_ every_ class. You can do your homework for other classes there."  
  
Harry's view of the next semester lightened considerably at the prospect of skipping Mr. Black's class and the horror known as geometry. When Leo and Jasmine offered to take the three newbies to the 'Fiesta Closet' – newbies weren't allowed in without an older escort, so the place wasn't overrun by younger students – they accepted happily.  
  
After an hour or so of goofing around, Harry went back to his dorm room to tackle his insurmountable pile of homework. He worked most on the two spells, things he couldn't do in class. He decided that he could do the magical creatures packet in class, and, if he finished that, then he could start on doing a handwritten copy of his report.  
  
RD appeared in the room while Harry was giving his mind a break, just starting on the packet. Harry's roommate stared, saying incredulously, "Man, you have an older crowd of Freaks to hang out with, and you're sitting in the dorms doing homework? What's with _that_?"  
  
Laughing, Harry shrugged, "Dunno. I have a lot of homework, I guess. It's all Arts Hall stuff, I'm not _that_ much of a geek." RD shook his head as he shuffled around in the room for a bit, before taking his leave when one of his friends knocked on the door.  
  
After doing so much homework and starting out the day so tired, Harry was exhausted. The moment he mastered the two spells, he fell into his bed, asleep before he touched the pillow.  
  
After breakfast, Harry studied for all of science in the Arts Hall library, terrified that he'd be caught. Surprisingly, he noticed that a lot of people from his B day classes were there as well. In language, he copied Nix's completed science homework, and worked on the magical creatures packet while Kael slept. Harry supposed that it was something to do with him being a vampire.  
  
After that class, Harry borrowed one of Nix's health bars for lunch and went back to the Arts Hall library, intent of finishing his magical history report. By the time he printed it out, he had to run to get to European History. He couldn't help but notice that he had been running to class _far_ too much lately.  
  
Harry handed Nox his completed report for her to check while he copied the geometry homework, accidentally on purpose missing a few problems so that it didn't look better than his work normally would. By three, when his final class let out, Harry was completely done with all of his homework, and so had all afternoon free.  
  
A/n – a nothing chapter, I know. And shorter than usual, too. Deal with it. I'm starting the next chapter now, will be up tomorrow.


	5. four

A/n- YES! Another reviewer! You all ROCK! And, so, without further delay – Harry gets a makeover! Hehe. No, not really. Oh… ew… bad image… I'll just shut up and write now. After-finishing-A/n - ehe.... for full excuse (it's... several good excuses, actually) see my bio. Thankyous are there too, 'cause my computer is too slow for me to look the extrodanarily large number of names up right now. THANK YOU SOOO MUCH!

Chapter four

The cymbals went off as usual on Friday, causing Harry to roll out of bed in his usual manner. After nearly a full school week at St. Brutes, Harry could and did go through his morning routine half-asleep. As he was walking out of West Hall, Harry remembered the trip to 'normal society' that was taking place today.

He looked over the flyer, and noticed, to his disappointment, that he was required to go, but none of his friends were on the list for this trip. As Harry was walking down the hall, he was startled to hear RD's voice say loudly, "Hey! Harry, wait up!"

The Boy Who Lived turned and waited as RD walked towards him. With a careless shrug, RD explained, "I saw your name on the flyer. None of your friends are going, are they? Tough luck. None of mine are going either. I was wondering if you wanted some help fixing your wardrobe… or lack thereof."

Over the last few days, RD had warmed up slightly to Harry, enough so that they managed to talk to each other when they were both in same room, which was hardly ever. Harry smiled, "That'd be fun."

Predictably, RD rolled his eyes and corrected, "That'd be cool. 'Cool', not 'fun,' man." Harry shrugged, and RD drifted off to see his friends after a few more minutes. Harry was the first of his group to get into the cafeteria, so he ate with Carlos that morning.

As he had done on Wednesday, Harry spent most of his classes in the Arts Hall library. His classes had assigned more homework than they had last time, as the students had all weekend to do it. Harry had two new spells to master, another, longer report for magical history, and a report on the Death Demon for magical creatures, which Harry was currently working on.

Harry soon found out that Death Demons had several names - Wraiths, Mors Advena (their scientific name), and several others. It was also insanely difficult to find any information on them, except for the fact that the American Wizarding Government was trying to hunt them down, but Harry couldn't find for what reason.

Mr. Fez had said they would be using their reports to do a class debate on what species of dangerous, intelligent magical beings should be allowed to take part in magical government, and which shouldn't. Harry had never even realized that half of the species they were studying existed, so he didn't really have an opinion.

Harry, frustrated with his magical creatures report, decided to eat lunch in the cafeteria as opposed to continuing his fruitless search. A few moments after Harry sat down with his friends, he felt someone staring at him. Raising his gaze from his sandwich, Harry met Nox's empty, black eyes, "You seem frustrated today." She observed quietly. Nox had the annoying talent of being able to read how anyone was feeling.

Knowing that Nox was waiting for a reason, Harry responded causally, "I'm only considering ripping my magical creatures report into shreds. Have any of you ever even heard of something called a 'Death Demon'?" Jasmine suppressed a laugh by stuffing the remainder of Leo's doughnut into her mouth. She met Kael's confused gaze and he started to laugh as well, causing Harry and Leo to feel incredibly stupid, "What?" Harry asked, sharing a clueless glance with Leo.

Nox spoke up in her soft, whispery voice, "Harry, _I_ am a Wraith. If you so much as _think_ about saying anything that implies we shouldn't have a place in government, I will kill you myself." It was always hard to tell with Nox, but Harry was pretty sure that she was joking.

Jumping on the opportunity, Harry asked, "Will you help me with my report? Better yet, will you _do_ my report? I'll do all your A day homework – other than geometry – all semester, I swear, if you do the report for me." A few minutes of haggling later, and they came to the decision that Harry would do Nox's magical history report – which only needed to be about half the length of any Harry's reports – and Nox would do his magical creatures report and still allow him to copy most of the regular A day assignments.

The rest of the school day passed without mishap. Harry got a reasonable start on his homework, and the librarian didn't ask any awkward questions about why Harry wasn't in class, which was definitely a good thing.

* * *

The students required to go on the trip were hustled onto a few cramped, yellow buses and were driven out of the oppressive Center. Harry was quite glad to be leaving it, if only for a few hours. The trip passed quickly, with casual conversation between RD and Harry. RD was really nice, if a bit arrogant around his friends. 

When they had arrived at a mall, the bus drivers, also counselors at St. Brutes, said the usual warnings, and the students separated, wandering off. The mall was relatively empty, as it was only early Friday afternoon, and Harry was immediately steered into a shop, filled with black, that had heavy bass thumping throughout it.

* * *

An hour later, Harry was standing in front of a full mirror, staring at his reflection. He couldn't begin to imagine how he had gotten there – the day had just been a blur, and Harry had not been allowed to get a word in the whole day.

Harry was in a dressing room of yet another store, his supply of muggle money much depleted. His hair, usually just messy and impossible, was now cut and gelled into a ragged, uneven style, the individual strands twisted so that they resembled dread locks. It actually looked pretty good, and Harry was already used to having his hair falling into his eyes.

He was wearing baggy, black pants, equipped with large cargo pockets and several zippers, that were wide enough at the hems to almost completely cover his old, beaten up sneakers, which he had been allowed to keep. He was wearing a grey shirt, almost completely covered by the oversized black trench coat. It was army surplus, and heavy, several pounds of thick fabric and winter quilting weighing down on Harry's shoulders.

Also, Harry had added several pairs of black gloves, a few necklaces, and his own spiked bracelet to his wardrobe. Besides this outfit, he had two other pairs of pants and several different shirts, and had been taught how to spike his hair in a variety of different ways, should he be so inclined.

RD hadn't actually had much to do with the shopping trip. After a few minutes of mindlessly wandering around the mall, three of RD's female friends – Mari, Ammie, and Less, who went to the Secure Center for girls, bumped into them. Before RD could stop them, they had dragged Harry off and proceeded to pick out a whole new wardrobe for him. RD had simply shrugged apologetically, walking off to the food court as Harry was dragged away.

* * *

"I don't think this is all really necessary!" Harry protested yet again, as two of the girls – he couldn't get their names straight – grabbed his arms in an iron grip and began dragging him away from RD. The other boy shrugged and walked quickly off, obviously trying not to burst into laughter.

The girl on Harry's left – Possibly Ammie – simply tightened her grip, neon green nails digging into his arm, "Nonesense," she snapped, in good humor, "You look like a geek. A pitiful, scrawny, kick-me-sign sorta geek. I'm surprised that no one's killed you yet."

Despite Harry's protests, he was bodily dragged into the first store. Harry kept his expression mildly annoyed, but on the inside he wanted to turn around and run. The plain, white tiles from the rest of the mall had continued, but the rest of the store looked radically different.

It was cramped, dark, and almost everything Harry could see was black and red. Some music was playing softly, and Harry heard the girl who had abstained from grabbing him – Less, maybe – murmed happily, "MMMmmnnnn…. Ya gotta love the Nirvana…"

The guy behind the counter, two or three years older than them, had headphones on and was concentrating on his music, something Harry could only be thankful for. Ammie and Mari dragged him over to the sale rack and immediately began arguing over what he should try on.

Harry looked doubtfully at the clothes, preferring to remain a geek than to try on any of that. After a few minutes of fierce quarrelling, a pile of clothes were thrust at him, and he was ordered to go try them on. Harry sighed, this was going to be a long day…

* * *

After a few more stores, which were all just as dark and cramped as the first one, the girls dragged Harry off to get his hair 'fixed.' The girls all seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, though Harry certainly wasn't. After a few minutes of sitting – fine, being held down into one of the hard, plastic chairs for waiting in – a middle-aged woman with platinum hair and bright pink nail polish that matched her messy lipstick took over directing him into a leather chair, where he sat, trying not to scowl too deeply, as great tufts of his messy hair was chopped off.

The woman – Lizz, by her name tag – then set to finding the best hair style for his 'face shape,' or whatever, and telling him in a screechy, giggly voice just exactly how to replicate the styles. Harry bit back a groan and left willingly when the girls came back for him.

* * *

Harry walked apprehensively out of the dressing room. The girls immediately began critiquing how the outfit looked on Harry. He hadn't really enjoyed shopping, but knew for a fact that there was no way anyone could say that he looked stupid, after going through an afternoon of such thorough evaluation.

After it was declared that Harry had three acceptable outfits, Mari, Ammie, and Less picked out what they decided was the best one, forced Harry to change into it, and led him through the mall, hunting for RD. At first, Harry was extremely uncomfortable in such clothes, though Mari had made sure that the clothes stayed relatively simple, and not the 'harder' clothes that Ammie wanted him to wear. After a few minutes, however, Harry was getting used to the bulky clothes. The weight of the coat was somewhat comforting, and he felt more at home in the dark, borderline gothic outfit.

* * *

They were allowed to sleep until nine the next day, as it was a weekend. Harry woke up at six automatically, as he had already become used to waking up at that hour. Bored, he took a shower, changed into a simple grey t-shirt and his new black pants, did a passable job with his hair, and walked down the stairs, heading for the cafeteria. He felt a lot less vulnerable now that he looked like everyone else, instead of a weak little geek to be picked on.

Nox was awake as well, and sitting at their usual table when Harry came down. Like most of the students, she was wearing her own clothes, since it was a weekend. She was wearing a simple, elegant black blouse, and a loose skirt made of crinkled cotton that reached nearly to the floor. Her black lips turned upwards slightly when she noticed his change of wardrobe, making it obvious that she had expected it, sooner or later.

"Kael's sleeping in," She alerted Harry in a whispery voice, after staring at him out the deep pools of emptiness that were her eyes for several minutes. Harry responded with a nod. Breakfast was a quiet affair, as no one else in their group was quite awake yet.

Well, with the exception of Leo, who was always awake, and Jasmine, who was attempting to keep him away from the coffee. Harry was staring at his empty tray, trying to get his exhausted mind to remember when and what he had eaten, when he felt the familiar prickle at the back of his neck.

Harry looked up to find, as he had expected, Nox's dead eyes staring at him, the only thing that hinted at an expression being he tilt of her head, giving away that she was curious about something. To Harry's surprise (though he didn't really mind) he felt his mind being shuffled through, the first time either Nox or Kael had done that on him. After blinking at Harry in recognition, Nox turned to nod to Kael. Harry had the distinct impression that he had missed something, but neither of them made direct eye contact, so he didn't get a chance to ask.

* * *

Besides that small occurrence, the rest of the day slipped away in a blur, followed by the days and weeks after. Before Harry knew it, it was November the second, and he was walking into the cafeteria for breakfast, the frightening appearances and raucous noise of too many voices talking too loudly over each other seemed welcoming.

He sat with Kael and Nox, as usual, but something seemed very wrong. Kael was wide awake, which sent up warning signals in Harry's mind, and Nox seemed a bit ruffled, much unlike her usual calm. A glance at the other, human-safe Freaks that sat with them unsettled Harry even more, because all of them seemed about ready to snap with nervousness, or anticipation, or something akin to that.

On top of this, several newspapers and magazines and printed articles were being passed among them. The dangerous Freaks, and the seniors and some of the juniors, were sitting at a table in the corner of the room, as always. The unusual thing was that they weren't keeping up their icy, aloof silence – a newspaper had been thrown on the empty table (devoid of the usual things, like, say, food) and they seemed to be in severe discussion of its contents.

A glance was passed around the table, and Harry's friends seemed to have one, as a magazine was passed to him. Harry wasn't really liked by the even the safe, 'nice' Freaks, though he was minutely accepted. Harry looked at the magazine, titled Time, something from America, and struggled to keep his appearance as controlled as that of his friends'.

Hands suddenly shaking, and suddenly wide awake this early on a Monday, Harry turned to the designated page of the cover article. Swiftly reading the article, expertly skipping over the unimportant paragraphs, as he had learned to do while working on his constantly assigned essays. Harry couldn't help but marvel at the control of his friends. They were cool and composed while Harry was fighting for an even expression, and it didn't even directly affect him. He was just worried and angry for his friends.

But the Freaks had every right to be angry. The cover confirmed the whispered predictions that had been floating around since the start of school. The magical government of America – known already for its cruelty and nearly communist control – had banned all "inherently dark" magical creatures, a category which included both Nox and Kael. Worse, the article stated that the magical UN was opening debates on whether such laws should be employed in every country.

As Harry read, the older, more powerful Freaks had apparently come to a decision. They moved over to the table where their younger fellows ate, a senior with a hard, unforgiving face and coal black eyes to match his hair, both of which starkly contrasted his pale skin, came over and grabbed onto one of both Kael's and Nox's arms, saying in a low, quiet tone that left no room for argument, "C'mon. We're moving all of you into East Hall. Chances are all Hell's gonna break loose here the moment the normies hear the news."

None of the newbie Freaks argued, all silently exiting the hall. Harry managed to slip away from the table, as to not be so obviously friends with the people that had just left the hall. After a few seconds' contemplation, he decided that he had a good thirty minutes left before Magical History, just enough time.

Harry walked casually out of the cafeteria, before sprinting with heavy, pounding steps through the deserted hallways. He rammed the scratched, dull key into his door, pausing for just a moment to close and lock it behind him, placing the key carefully in his pocket. He had to write Dumbledore. He would understand, know what to do in this situation, could talk the UN around.

Before Harry could realize that his owl was at the Weasly's, and he had no way to send a letter, a great silver bird flew in through the open window – a quirk of RD's – and landed regally on Harry's arm. Recognizing the emerald ink, Harry quickly grabbed the letter, irritably shaking the bird off his arm, and dropping onto his bed.

_Harry,_

_You've probably noticed the recent events in America. As you can well see, we cannot safely keep you there, not with so many dark creatures running about, probably in league with Voldermort, the lot of them. You doubtless haven't realized, but half of them (due to different rates of ageing) are old enough to have been involved with Voldermort the first time around. We're going to send someone there to get you out after I receive your reply, and then a group of aurors are going in to place any dark creatures under arrest tomorrow, before they can do too much damage, with or without Voldermort's help. Reply quickly, time is of the essence_

_-Dumbledore_

Shocked and burning with suppressed anger, trying and failing to remain cool like Nox, or at least oblivious like Kael, Harry couldn't fathom how he had ever looked up to that-that _wizard._ Was he really so blind? Were they all so blind? Harry felt safe, happy among these dangerous cutthroats in a way he had never in the sheltering, let's-all-be-friends atmosphere of Hogwarts. Harry had to face it – he had changed. For the better.

Harry quickly grabbed a wrinkled page of lined paper and a sharpie from the floor, and, using a textbook as a hard surface, scrawled in reply.

_Dumbledore._

_Yes, I've noticed. But it seems YOU haven't. How can you just sign off these people as dar-_

Stopping himself, Harry thought with forced clarity. He could use the information to help his friends. If he wrote an angry letter in reply, the aurors would simply come in a different day, and he would be dragged off anyway. Carefully, aware that was he was going to do was close to suicide, and not really caring, Harry put Dumbledore's letter and his angry part-of-a-note in his pocket for safety.

The bell rang as Harry started down the stairwell, _Damn. Mr. Callaghan hates people who are late to class. And I'm going to be _very_ late. _His heavy trench coat, which he had become quite attached to, like a mature blankie, did nothing to calm Harry's nerves as he ran across the deserted main room. Halfway across, he was forced to stop, closing his eyes and pressing his cold hands – they were always cold these days, probably due to the cold air of the Center – to his temples, trying to keep the contents of his stomach where they were. This had been happening since Nox had looked into his mind that one day, it had to be at least a month, no, more than that…

But Nox hadn't caused this. She had just done the regular shuffle-through that whatever Freak closest to the doors of the East Hall did whenever a normie came in. As Harry regained control over his stomach, he realized was seemed off with the main room. It was empty. That was obviously wrong. People were always there during class hours._ The other students have found out_.

Reminded of his purpose, Harry strode towards the door of East Hall. He held still for a moment, his grip deathly tight on the large handle, smoothed by so many years of hands, but cold from being touched so much, unlike the other doors, which were always warm with that uncomfortable way that made even slobs stop and think of how many people had touched it before them.

Taking a last breath, Harry opened the door silently, getting there in time to see the senior who had dragged Nox off (on second glance, he and several of the Freaks Harry had taken for seniors really more resembled people similar to the counselors in his own hall) declare, "We're leaving Wednesday, hiding all of the newbies and most of the rest of you somewhere safe…"

Eyes, eyes with catlike slits, eyes without irises, eyes stained red, eyes narrowed in annoyance, eyes widened in surprise, eyes cool and unrevealing, eyes of every type imaginable, and some unimaginable, had turned towards Harry. Surprising himself with his composure, Harry managed to say in confident, factual tones, "Wednesday is too late. A group of aurors is coming here tomorrow to arrest you all."

The man who had been speaking before him did the usual shuffling as Harry spoke, though he didn't allow his voice to falter. The counselor cast a glance at Nox, who nodded, shook her head, and then nodded again. It hadn't taken Harry long to realize that all Freaks were either telepathic or good enough at reading body language to talk without words, or both. The exchange of information went unobserved by the rest of the Freaks.

Unshaken, though seemingly not offended, the man returned with the question, "Are you certain this insight is accurate?"

"Very."

Harry could practically see the gears turning in his head as the counselor-person nodded and announced, "Plans are officially changed. We leave now. You all have an hour to get together anything important. Keep it to the size of a backpack or smaller, you'll have to carry it." Action was immediate, silent. Harry stood still, as the man was heading towards him. In an undertone, the taller man murmured, "You're coming with us. They'll know it was you who tipped us off, and we don't leave people who spy – even minutely – for us out to be caught. You have an hour as well – don't let anyone see you.

With a nod, Harry set off at a jog, wondering what had changed, trying to remember when he had stopped idolizing Dumbledore and his people, stopped thinking whatever people told him to think, doing what they said to prepare for the final battle with Voldermort.

_It's _my_ damn prophecy, anyway_, Harry thought to himself as he was once again running to his room,_ What do they know? And it's _not_ like there's anything like destiny. Just some crap that people predict and comes out as luck. Really, we've been going over it in History – hardly any of the prophecies have come true. And what's with the 'great and terrible' power, anyhow? He terrified a corner of the world for a few years. He's not the first organization to do that, and other people have come closer to global domination than him, though nobody picked out some random guy with a scar to save them _then.

Harry paused, halfway through packing his backpack, thinking in the cold, calculating way he had adopted in the last few months, along with the ability to play stupid people, getting them to do what he wanted to, and lie expertly. He had a feeling he'd need to employ all of those in this situation. If he just disappeared on the same day as the Freaks (the room looking like there had been a struggle, due to his fast packing) there was no doubt that Dumbledore would expect him to be kidnapped. No – Harry had time, time enough to write a letter with a plausible excuse.

Harry took out a sheet of parchment from his bag. He hadn't used any of the few sheets he had brought while at St. Brutes', nor had he touched his quill and ink. Nearly half the students were muggles, and the students who could use magic were sensible to adapt to newer technology – like, say, _pencils._ Carefully moving things around for space on his desk, Harry knelt before it (he had, in the first month or so at school, forgotten to lock his door, and his chair had been stolen) and wrote in a worried scrawl – for affect, of course – and taking his time to make it look believable – 

_Dumbledore,_

_I can't wait here for the aurors. All the people here with dark abilities knew the news this morning, and are expecting you to come, I'm sure. _

_True enough_, Harry thought to himself. He continued,

_I haven't had Hedwig to tell you, but I've been counting the days until you let me go back to Hogwarts since I arrived. There are all these rumors – last year someone was murdered in the dorm where they keep all of the more dangerous people… You see a fight every time you step into the hallway, and about half of the 'normal' people brought weapons. I don't feel safe here, and not just because of that. My scar has been hurting since I got here, and I keep getting this weird feeling that someone's watching me. But I wouldn't come tomorrow, doesn't it make sense that any darker people would expect it? They've seemed so animalistic to me, who knows what they can do if they panic? They've seemed ready to attack everyone in the cafeteria this morning. I can't wait here – I'm leaving and heading for around platform 9 ¾, since I don't know how to find Hogwarts. _

_- Harry._

So all of the letter but the first sentence had been pathetic, whimpering lies. Whatever, it would work, and he sounded like the innocent little private-schoolboy he used to be. It hit Harry again how much he had changed – even his memories of Ron and Hermione made them seem… delusional. Oblivious. Nice… but not really _friends_. He couldn't connect with him like he could to Leo, and Jasmine, and Nox, and Kael… It suddenly occurred to Harry that Jasmine would have to leave Leo behind. Changing his mind, Harry returned to packing, _Leo always knows what's going on. He'll probably find some way to tag along. He's good at that. _Another revelation – he hadn't gotten letters from anyone since he had started school. Hermione and Ron would get along just fine.

Harry finished packing quickly, and gave the letter to the silver bird, which hadn't moved. After it was out of sight, Harry glanced over his room. He had put most of the things that hinted at his change – the hair gel, for example – in his backpack, so there was nothing to hide, in case someone looked in this room after he had failed appear at platform 9 ¾.

Harry was ready nearly twenty minutes early so, fingers hovering above the lock on his door, ready to leave, Harry turned around and scrawled on R.D.'s bookmark in half of a pen, the fate of the other half being a very long story –

_not kidnapped. Freaky friends. you know._

Harry carefully replaced the bookmark and closed the book, leaving it on R.D.'s bed, instead of the floor, so he would be sure to notice it. Only a student would be able to see the obvious meaning of 'Freaky' being capitalized, which was exactly what Harry intended.

Leaving and locking the door behind him, Harry moved quietly through the halls, his hand on the pocket holding his wand, in case he heard someone ahead and needed to cast a charm to make him seem, though not _invisible_, inconspicuous, as if it was normal to see a newbie walking the halls with a backpack – no one really took much to class except their textbook, a pencil, and maybe a notebook, so it was rare for anyone to carry around a backpack – on a day when even the seniors were hiding in their rooms, or the classrooms.

Harry crossed the large commons to the Freak hall, easily pulling the door open, walking in, not nervous this time. If a normie went into their hall with an invitation, most of the Freaks wouldn't mind. It was coming in when he wasn't expected that had bothered Harry.

The Freaks were almost all down in the hallway, and Harry leaned against the pleasantly cold stone as he looked around for his friends. Harry fought a grin as Leo could be predictably be found with Jasmine, off in a corner. Kael was sleeping, laying full-length on the hard tile, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Also very predictable.

* * *

Suddenly, cotton-covered fingertips brushed Harry's arm. He could feel the cold even through the gloves and his coat. Nox, of course. Not even Kael, devoid of body heat, could compete with her for cold hands. Harry turned to look at his friend, who was, predictably, staring at him with dark eyes. She was frowning, but not at Harry, just at the situation, "We can't guarantee your safety… But it's not like you have a choice but to come."

Harry could tell she wasn't just referring to the fact that he was the one who tipped them off about the attack. Nox always seemed to be keeping secrets from him, and from a lot of other people as well, but that was okay. At least she didn't pretend like he knew everything before confessing a secret to him – like Dumbledore, and his Aunt and Uncle did. And she was an open critic of 'destiny' and 'fate,' which was an added bonus.

Predictably for him, Harry shrugged, "I don't mind." This made Nox smile, quite an accomplishment for the somber mood she seemed to be in. With a nod, she immediately turned and disappeared effectively and immediately into the crowd of people. A glance around him brought to mind how much had changed. Here he stood, surrounded by empaths, vampires, and worse –eviler, in fact – people. Things, actually, if you asked someone on the side of 'light.' Or animals, even.

That word seemed so contrary to the scene in front of Harry. Nearly everyone was cool and contained despite the fact that people would probably try to hunt down and kill them. Not to mention the fact that people stood, talking in low voices or remaining silent, the older 'animals' comforting the newbies, though the only newbies who seemed to be panicking were ones who had grown up in hiding with their families, away from society and all of the prejudice and hate.

Suddenly, Harry remembered a few months before…

Harry, Nox, and Kael were walking the pitch-black halls one night after the power had been cut. His friends had been taking Harry for such walks everyday since Nox had shuffled through his mind for the first time, and had apparently found something significant. The weirdest thing – slowly, oh-so-slowly, the darkness at night, far away from any windows, and without any electric lights to remove it had become, inexplicably, less heavy. After about a month, Harry began to be able to _see_. Not well, but the outlines of things were just barely visible.

More comfortable, being able to make out some of the walls, and therefore be able to avoid running into them on the occasions that Nox or Kael would suddenly relinquish his arm, to open or door or something like that, Harry walked along with his friends, and listening as the conversation drifted over to why each of them were here. After Harry had finished telling his story, Nox spoke up softly,

"We don't even have to do anything to get sent here, Harry. That's why people at schools like Hogwarts are almost oblivious to our lives. It's better here in Europe, for the moment, than it is in America. There, fights between clans – gangs, more like – of Freaks like us break out constantly in larger cities, where it can be passed off as normal. The government rarely even has to kill off any of us to keep us under control. Younger Freaks are abducted into a clan in the city, and usually die quickly, tricked into a deathtrap to keep the government happy, or, if they live in a small town or the country, are brought into a Manor.

"Manors can be what they sound like, a large house with a powerful Freak – usually a Vampire, or Demon, or another type of person that lives a long time – in charge, with various Freaks of a similar type under his of her protection. Most of the time, though, Manors are just large groups of Freaks in hiding, that move around from one unpopulated area to another, trying to avoid being noticed by anyone at all."

Harry nodded his understanding, closing his expression off as he learned to do when he wasn't sure how to respond. Nox and Kael randomly shared these bits of information while they were on walks, as if it was vital for Harry to learn quickly.

A/n - full excuse and apology and thankyous, when my internet quits being so slow in my bio. It took 15 minutes to load the screen where you edit things after uploading. Isn't that disgusting? Will now be trying to post every 2-4 weeks, because of very busy schedule (again, explained in bio) I love all of my new reviewers, and not in the creepy way. I got two new reviews today, and I wrote half a chapter. Keep that in mind, and please review.


	6. five

A/n – Eheh...

* * *

Chapter five 

Harry slowly slid to a sitting position against the cold stone, trying hard to control the jittery feelings of nervousness as the time to leave quickly approached. Running fingers over the rough stone he was leaning against, he tried to force himself to calm down. He couldn't stay cold and ineffectual like Kael or Nox, or even… preoccupied like Jasmine and Leo were as they stood _very_ close together off to the side, eagerly discussing anything but the current situation.

Partially through letting out a calming breath, a pounding pressure headache and twisting nausea hit Harry, his vision turning black slightly. This was stronger than it had before. He struggled to stop his expression from contorting in pain, but couldn't help but close his eyes, brow furrowing as he tried to control his outward appearance, and keep the contents of his stomach in place, very thankful that he had missed breakfast.

Nox had noticed, Harry knew, as something very cold wrapped itself around his shoulder in comfort. That helped. The cold grounded Harry, brought him back to himself, settled his rebelling form. Nox pushed something into Harry's that he recognized as one of her health bars from the crinkle of a wrapped and rectangular shape, "You didn't eat," was murmured. Harry nodded in confirmation, eyes still closed as the remained of his headache dissipated.

Harry cracked one eye open, just to ascertain that he didn't have an audience, before he closed his eyes again. He could feel Nox waiting for him to pose the inevitable question of what was happening, but Harry didn't ask. She would tell him when she felt like it, and no sooner. The cold weight was lifted, and Harry heard someone sitting down on his other side.

"Eat, it helps," was Kael's casual, sleepy, unruffled tone. His pride getting the better of him, Harry opened his eyes to glare at his friends, their concerned expressions lightening as Kael laughed, even Nox smiling a bit.

As Harry bit into the bar, much like a granola bar, except with added vitamins and stuff, if you asked the wrapper, Leo and Jasmine came over. Harry couldn't help but blink rapidly in confusion, before the problem with the scene in front of him became apparent. Leo wasn't bouncing around, talking at ninety miles a minute, or even screwing around on his computer.

Leo was simply allowing Jasmine to hold his forearm in a white-knuckled grip as she attempted to stay calm in the palpable tension of the room. She sunk to the ground to the right of Nox (who was sitting to the right of Harry, to the right of Kael, who seemed rather suspiciously close to being asleep) and let go of Leo's arm, who immediately, and subtly, tried to rub some circulation back into it.

Kael, despite all appearances, seemed actually awake enough to attempt to murmur something about how the situation really sucked, when the pale, black-haired guy who had seemed to be in charge earlier, spoke up from where he had been lounging against the wall.

"Everyone's here, now. This is how it's going to work. Everyone part of a manor or clan that can take in another dozen people temporarily, raise your hands." People had fallen silent the moment he spoke, and now a good quarter of them put their hands up in a lazy gesture, including Kael and Nox.

After quickly scanning he room, he continued, "Alright. We will break into groups of about twelve. Until he situation is resolved, you will be switching from one safehouse to another every two weeks – like a small manor. In each group, I want between two and six people who have somewhere to go, between one and three seniors, someone who can do at least small healing jobs, and at least one very strong telepath. Any questions?" Silence. "Get in groups, then."

There was an immediate, eerie shuffle of silent people. Harry's small group instantly went about roping over a telepath (a friend of Jasmine's), though all of her appearance Harry could catch in the organized movement was long, light blond hair. Also added to their group was a short, pale girl with brown hair (a bit around her face bleacher artistically) in minute braids; the twins, Leslie and Noel, with their bright red hair and stormy blue eyes; and a senior, well over six foot, with a dark complexion and thin, black dreadlocks.

After the small amount of noise had died own, the guy with black hair spoke up again, "Do all groups have _at least_ ten people? Okay. Capable telepaths, raise your hands." Jasmine's friend waved, blue eyes bored, "Healers?" Jasmine motioned with much more enthusiasm, "Seniors?" The guy with dreadlocks, and the short girl with braids nodded and put their hands up, respectively, "People with somewhere to go?" Motions from Nox, Kael, Leslie, and Noel, "Good."

He numbered the groups off quickly (Harry was in group four) and announced calmly, "Go to closest place available. We've got a few people magically holding the doors to all the rooms shut, so you shouldn't encounter anyone. Ride in the cars of the people ho have them, and move quietly. It would be best if no one noticed us leaving. I'll make contact with each of the telepaths tonight at ten. Go." The effect was immediate, and the hushed conversations started up again, the most organized – or nervous – groups heading directly for the door.

The senior with dreads, as was obviously the purpose of having at least one in every group, took charge, "I'm J," Harry had the distinct impression that it was an initial, "an' I have a truck. We can all fit, if most people stay in the back. We can work out where we're goin' later. Cool?" Nods all around, and Harry found himself, and the rest of the group, immediately filing out of the doors with the rest of the silent mass.

As they made their way out to the parking lot, a sort of hushed silence fell over the group. Even though everyone, even Harry and Leo, was expressionless (or reasonably close to that), Harry could see every muscle visible in the swiftly walking mass tense and tightened. The doors, though normally locked and blocked by whatever counselor was unlucky enough to be picked, swung open easily, and there was a distinct lack of any of the counselors visible. Harry shivered, more because he found that the possible ways of removing such people _didn't_ bother him, than because he was freaked out.

They were in the middle of a heat wave, and so the temperature sharply rose the moment they went outside, especially after the frigid atmosphere in St. Brute's. As they made their way across the blacktop, looking for J's car, Harry took a moment to examine the people he was now accompanying. They all gave off the dark, chilly feel that Freaks tended to, but some much more significantly than others.

Nox and Kael were about midway up the spectrum, along with Leslie and Noel. Jasmine felt considerably darker, but much less cold. Jasmine's blond friend gave off much less of the feeling than anyone else (with the exception of Leo and Harry himself), though Harry supposed it was because she had a different type of magic. The two seniors, though, seemed to be drowning in the creepy feeling. J looked dangerous, so that was to be expected, but the short girl with braids took Harry by surprise – she seemed impossibly cheery, even in this sort of situation.

J found his truck, a rusted old blue thing with a bench seat in front and another shoved in behind it, though there didn't seem to be much in the way of legroom. At all. Or headroom, for that matter. Leaning against the door to the driver's seat, J fiddled with his keys, "Alright. Who here actually has somewhere we can get to without goin' over water?"

In an unusually quiet mood, even for her, Nox just nodded. No one else moved. Nodding decisively, J opened the door to his car (it squeaked, and Kael flinched at the sudden noise), announcing, "You sit up here, then. In the middle, where you can give directions. You," he waved vaguely at the other senior, already posed to run to the shotgun door, "Get the other front seat. Everyone else – get in the back seat, or the far back of the truck," He motioned for the bed of the truck, obviously failing to remember the word, "Get down if you see anyone that might be a cop."

Jasmine gave Nox a consoling look as the girl made her way to sit between the two seniors, obviously (to those who knew her well) not happy with the prospect. The twins and the blond had already claimed the back seat by the time anyone else could even try to take it, so everyone else pulled themselves over a side and into the trunk.

Most of them grimaced as they saw the amount of rust and dirt where they had to sit, and did their best to wipe it off. Kael, in almost comical normality for him, immediately pressed his hands over closed eyes and grumbled about the late-morning sun as he sat down indian-style against the cab. Despite the tension, Harry managed a smile and a light chuckle at his friend's misery as he sat down next to Kael, earning himself a decidedly wimpy punch.

The engine rumbled and then (if grudgingly) sprung to life. The first few minutes of driving were pleasant, with Jasmine making an effort to keep a conversation going while J navigated through back roads, to avoid being seen.

After that, though, things were much less pleasant. By noon, Harry had been forced to roll up the sleeves of his coat, and was trying to appear as if he wasn't hot, though he was refuted by the faint sheen to his forehead; Leo was unsuccessful in finding anyone with wireless internet in the area, and was staring sulkily at the messagebox on the screen that informed him of such; Kael had fallen to sleep, after much pitiful whining; and Jasmine seemed close to copying him, curled up as she was on Leo's shoulder (who seemed to be enjoying that pat of their circumstances very much).

As the ride turned from 'incredibly dull' to 'ungodly tedious,' Harry took to examining his backpack, for lack of something more interesting to do. It was black and shabby from hard use – a Dudley cast-off, predictably – but the zippers still worked and there were no large holes, so it hardly mattered. He had two other changes of clothes, bathroom stuff, and very little else of consequence, which made shuffling through it more than once quite unsatisfactory.

Hot and tired and beginning to feel nauseous from the rolling motion of the truck, Harry leaned back, something metal digging into his shoulder, and slowly drifted off into a very light doze.

* * *

Harry started to wakefulness as the car jiggled in response to coming to a complete stop, therefore saving himself the embarrassment of anyone but Leo knowing that he drifted off. Leo, being totally scatterbrained, would probably forget in a matter of seconds, if he hadn't already. 

As the doors squeaked in protest (effectively waking Kael, who was looking decidedly grumpy and sore), Harry took the chance to look around. Twilight gave everything a softer appearance, smoothing any hard edges to the scene before him. Not that there were that many to begin with.

For the most part, it was smooth countryside. Rolling, grey-green orchard grass, dotted with trees just barely too far away from each other to qualify for 'spread-out forest.' The main attraction, of course, was the two-story large-house or small-mansion that sat some distance off, looking quite a bit like a picture from a kid's story book than anything else – though mostly because the street was behind Harry and the general architecture of the house rather than anything.

It wasn't insanely huge, after the first glance, but was still larger than any residence Harry had seen within memory. Green vines snaked over old, dark grey stone. The windows, hard to make out in the deepening twilight, seemed to be stained in muted tones of blue, green, and purple.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted as Kael started to clamber out of the trunk, and decided to follow his lead. Leo, showing surprising strength half helped and half carried his girlfriend onto the grass, who didn't really seem to want to be awake. After everyone, in varying degrees of wakefulness, had congregated on the tall grass, they made their way to the house in the sleepy silence that usually accompanied extensive travel.

Nox walked up between Kael and Harry, looking rather relieved to be away from the more intimidating presences among the group. As they made the rather lengthy walk from the gravel country road to the dark house, she explained, more for the benefit or Leo and Harry than anything else, "I live hear with my older... sister, I suppose she would be considered, and Lady Nakia. It's, like... If I were a vampire, she'd be my Sire, except for the fact that girls aren't usually referred to like that, because it doesn't sound feminine enough or something. She's like... an aloof aunt or something, I suppose."

Harry didn't have much to say to that, but Kael was staring at the manor, growing steadily as they approached. In a completely awed and not in the least bit angry tone, the vampire stated, "I'm gonna hate you forever, now. This is so, _totally_ not fair." This earned a sleepy smile from Jasmine, light laughter from Harry, and a roll of her eyes from Nox, but not much else, the rest of the group too tired or not knowing them well enough to laugh along.

When they arrived at the massive front door, Nox walked up, while everyone else hovered around on the grass. She knocked twice with the iron knocker, and then stepped back, tugging on her skirt (it had originally been part of the regular uniform and had gone to just below her knees. Nox had cut it off at mid-thigh) as if belatedly realizing that this 'Lady Nakia' might not approve.

The door opened, to reveal a willowy young woman, with pale skin, tightly coiled black hair that draped partially over her shoulders and went down to the middle of her back, and the same dead eyes as Nox. Unlike Nox, however, the new figure was tall, seemingly around sixteen or seventeen, and wore a cross rather than a blank expression. The figure, dressed in a long, black skirt and elegant, long-sleeved black blouse, crossed her arms over her chest. Harry noted with amusement that she was absent-mindedly using her right index finger for a bookmark. She had that bookish feel, along with coldness he could sense even from the distance.

The tall figure, still blocking the doorway, sniffed disdainfully, saying in a lofty but not altogether unpleasant voice, "I thought you weren't supposed to be home from that _school_ you go to until December," and then added, in the feminine way of verbal sparring Harry never understood, "And you look a mess. The Lady will never approve of that skirt."

Nox crossed her own arms across her chest, subconsciously adopting an identical posture as the older girl, and saying in an equally biting voice, "And _I_ thought you had some manners, or at least some sense of the current fashions, Noir. Long skirts make anyone look old, _especially_ someone like _you_. Is Lady Nakia in? We've guests, it's rude to leave them out in the cold."

Those who knew Nox well seemed about to burst into laughter, as such a tone was ridiculously out of character, and even the other members of the group seemed amused. With the exception of J, who just seemed annoyed at the delay.

Apparently unwilling to partake in verbal sparring in front of an audience, Noir turned abruptly to face the dimly lit inside of the house, skirt swirling in a way that most _definitely_ made her look more elegant than old. Her voice, casual but still lofty (and with a good deal less bite than when she addressed her sister) trailed back to them, "She's not in, but I suppose you may come in and wait, if _someone _is so inclined to make use of _her_ good manners."

Jasmine, fully awake now, had a hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her giggles. Fighting (and winning, as always) for any expression but an amused or victorious one, Nox motioned them all inside, closing the door after them, and motioning towards a coat tree with a casual, "As I rule, I should take your coats, but I suppose most of you will want them, so whatever. Lady Nakia has a habit of sporadically disappearing, but she's always home before too late. I'll show you to the drawing room, rather than the library, the better to avoid Noir. Please ignore her – she's always like that."

With that, Nox lead them down quick maze of expensive-looking and neat, but reasonably comfortable, rooms and a number of halls. The floors were consistently of some dark, polished wood, while the walls changed tastefully, different in each room, though not so much that it felt disconnected.

Instead of electric lights, it was lit by candles and oil lamps that provided ample, gentle light to almost every corner of every room – Harry supposed the effect must have been magnified by magic somehow, as he had never seen anything but electric lamps able to give off so much light.

After a short, brisk walk, they were politely (Nox-the-hostess seemed to amuse Kael and Jasmine especially, and Harry himself found the sight rather entertaining) led into a (relatively) small room with cream walls, comfortable chairs and couches in the same color set around the room, an already-burning fireplace that brought the room to a warm temperature, and a few bookcases, should the guest be so inclined, or so bored, that they found the old, leather-bound volumes interesting.

With the promise to annoy her sister until she could figure out where Lady Nakia was, Nox departed swiftly on silent feet. Leo and Jasmine quickly opted to share a large armchair, rather than take up two between them, theoretically so that there would be enough room for everyone else, even though more than half of the room decided they would rather stand than sit.

All in all, in Harry's opinion, it was just another boring part of another boring day The girl with the braids – Bree, as Harry discovered amongst the boredom – started up a conversation with the twins and the blond – whose name Harry still didn't know. J lounged against the wall. Harry got the distinct expression that he didn't have very many friends – though most probably because he didn't much seem to want them. Harry and Kael, tired and bored, respectively, sat around, and talked for a bit on the subject that they hadn't eaten, really, since dinner the previous night and didn't much appreciate it.

Thankfully, it was only around a half hour before Nox returned, following quietly behind a tall woman – Lady Nakia, Harry assumed – mysteriously in a very modest but flattering outfit that Harry had definitely never seen her wear at school. The woman had the same black eyes as Nox and Noir, though she had glossy black waves, as opposed to straight hair or coils, that settled nicely on her shoulders, and a smooth, golden complexion. Lady Nakia had gentle features – showing little emotion, but not totally cut off like Nox.

The Lady was currently smiling welcomingly, and said in a mild, flowing voice that seemed to melt in the warm atmosphere of the room, "Greetings, all. It seems a small situation has arisen, and I am certainly glad to assist. Providing somewhere to stay from a few weeks is the least I can do. Now, I believe that dinner of some sort is in order. If you would follow me?" She appeared to be talking to the group as a whole, but Harry could tell by the way her eyes moved that she was looking over each of them carefully for anything suspicious.

They were led to the dining room, which, like all the rooms Harry had seen so far, showed wealth in gracefulness, rather than gaudiness. The table was not overly large, fitting them all just barely without crowding – Harry had the strong impression that it had been enlarged before they came in – and was draped in an elegant white table cloth, laid with sparkling silver place settings and delicate, clear wineglasses.

Of course, the first thing Harry noted was that there were a good more forks and spoons than he was accustomed to dealing with, but felt much better after seeing a similar expression on Kael's and Leo's faces. They were seated with care, so that no guy was totally surrounded by girls, and everyone had at least one person competent with the complex etiquette sitting somewhere near them.

The dinner passed in a blur, and Harry could only remember a handful of details, such as the fact that Nox had served most people watered-down dinner wine, while Noir had given J and Kael something from a different container; or that the vanilla ice cream served to those still hungry (practically everyone) at the end was quite good.

At the close of the meal, Nox, Noir, and Lady Nakia herself led the guests to where they would be sleeping. Harry, Leo, and Jasmine were shown to their respective rooms by Noir, and Harry couldn't help but be amused by the fact that Noir was _not_ amused by Leo's suggestion that Harry switch rooms with Jasmine, after they had been informed that the two boys would have to share a room.

There was a bathroom or two on each floor (Harry and Leo were upstairs, with most of the group), so it didn't take too long for everyone to get ready for bed, even though the girls on their floor (the twins and Jasmine) took almost a halfhour in the bathroom apiece.

It was that night that Harry discovered why Jesse didn't like having Leo for a roomate, though the two were good friends.

The guy didn't _sleep. **Ever.**_

Sure, Leo would lay down for maybe a halfhour, but then would be up and spouting off comments, or pacing, or doing something of that sort. Harry had never before appreciated his ability to sleep through almost anything, but he had certainly learned how useful it was by morning.

* * *

Harry woke in the morning, faced with a strange ceiling and a surprising feeling of homesickness. Not missing St. Brutus', of course, but the people in it. He couldn't have his early morning squabble with RD (one had famously ended in his being tackled and thoroughly pummeled on the way to breakfast), he couldn't exchange friendly greetings with Carlos, couldn't even make lame excuses to the librarian about why he was working on homework rather than attending class. It was thoroughly disconcerting.

Finally dragging himself out of bed, Harry was less than pleased to discover that Leo was, finally, sleeping soundly. He had half a mind to make a lot of noise and be the one doing the annoying for a change, but then decided it would take too much effort. After pulling on the first clothes he could reach, and neatening his appearance enough that he wouldn't feel so entirely out of place, Harry stumbled down towards the dining room.

On his way there, however, he heard voices from a different room, the door open a crack, and early morning sunshine spilling through. After assuring himself that he wasn't interrupting anything, Harry let himself into the room, and, all in a blur of caffeine-induced activity, was greeted by friends, shown to a chair, and handed coffee as well as something resembling a cinnamon roll – all before he had managed to get a grip on what was going on.

Once the world had stopped spinning quite so violently, Harry took a look around. He was in what was apparently the kitchen – much more comfortable than the dining room – done in mostly blue and yellow. The table and cabinets were in a lighter wood than the floor, all of the cooking appliances in a state of obsessive cleanliness.

His eyes had apparently glazed over, because the next thing he noticed was being smacked (albeit lightly) with a magazine. Cutting off his noise of protest, Jasmine dropped the magazine empathetically on top of his pastry – the first impression was correct, it was a cinnamon roll – and said in her bossiest voice, "We're trying to stay on top of the situation and see where they're looking, 'n all that. Get to work – there're more where that comes from!"

Wincing partially from the cheery tone, and partially from the stack of papers and magazines teetering in the middle of the table, Harry gave another wordless noise – this time of grudging assent – and sipped his coffee. He had become addicted to it throughout the school year.

Also sitting around the circular table were Bree, Kael, Nox, Noir (being surprisingly helpful and studious), and the blond (who seemed to be doing everything but helping). Briefly wondering where J was – he seemed like an early riser – Harry felt the familiar prickle on the back of his neck, and looked up to meet Nox's gaze, "He took his car and Leslie and Noel into town to listen for gossip regarding the government's opinions."

Harry nodded, and Nox looked back down at her newspaper. With a feeling of dread – more at the pile of work than anything else – the Boy Who Lived idly flipped through the slippery, shiny pages, searching for a table of contents.

* * *

After being shooed out of the kitchen to 'go do whatever people your age ought to be doing,' Harry felt someone's eyes on him. Through the crowd (only seeming like a crowd due to the extremely small hallway outside of the kitchen), Nox and Kael were looking at him. Feeling a little weirded out by the stares, Harry was more startled to hear Nox's voice, directly in his mind, command politely, _Harry, we need to talk to you for a bit. Now._

_

* * *

_

A/n - Uh... I _totally_ have an excuse for taking so long... yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaah... School sucks, and stuff outside of school sucks more. Nuff said. Blagh. It's summer now, so it won;t be ages between updates anymore. I'm serious this time.


	7. six

After being shooed out of the kitchen to 'go do whatever people your age ought to be doing,' Harry felt someone's eyes on him. Through the crowd (only seeming like a crowd due to the extremely small hallway outside of the kitchen), Nox and Kael were looking at him. Feeling a little weirded out by the stares, Harry was more startled to hear Nox's voice, directly in his mind, command politely, _Harry, we need to talk to you for a bit. Now._

Chapter Six

There was something strange about Nox's tone that Harry couldn't immediately place, but it was mirrored in the way Kael's eyes were open slightly further than their usual half-mast and the strange feeling the command left in Harry's mind, like walking under an electricity wire and listening to it crackle, or tasting the steam over boiling water. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to increase the likelihood that the news would be to his taste.

Nevertheless, Harry consented with a subtle nod, trying not to attract attention. Nox wouldn't have spoken directly in his mind if it hadn't been very important that no one could overhear them. It was the first time Nox had spoken in his mind without warning him and asking permission before, and he couldn't help but be annoyed. Harry bit that back, however. If this were serious enough to call for the secrecy, he would hold off his annoyance until he could be angry without ruining whatever his friends were up to.

Noticing that Noir – the one who had shooed them out of the room, probably because she wanted breakfast in peace – was watching as people left, with special attention to her sister. Deciding not the raise suspicions, Harry turned and walked in the general direction of the sleeping Leo until her rounded a corner, where he promptly stopped moving in favor of listening.

Not entirely stupid, Harry knew that he was, in fact, surrounded by _Freaks_, who would undoubtedly never be overheard unless they wanted to. Still – if anyone knew everything that was going on, it was going to be Noir. Her, or J. But he wasn't here right now, and Harry couldn't help but visualize the tall senior beating him into a bloody pulp for listening in on his conversations.

Leaning against the cold wall, he concentrated first on slowing his breathing, then making it quiet enough to hear past. The problem with being alive, as Kael had frequently told him, was all the noise you couldn't help but make – heart beating, breathing, compared to someone like Kael, it was impossible for a human to sneak up on anyone, or listen in to anything.

Still, Harry couldn't help but try. Back at St. Brutes, he had learned the value of listening in on people, and even new habits were hard to get rid of. At first, he could hear nothing but his breathing and the slow, even beat of his heart. Almost everyone had turned off in another direction, which meant he had a clear path to hear Noir, assuming that luck was with him and she was talking to someone.

But luck was occupied elsewhere, apparently, because Harry couldn't hear anything during the pauses between breaths. He glared at the wall across from him and was about to give up, when he heard something – fabric shuffling more fabric. Very quiet, but coming closer. Nox, hopefully, but it could also be Noir or Lady Nakia.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his eyes as if he had a headache, concentrating on the feel of his cool hands against his eyes, forcing himself to think of headaches, not listening. _Harry._ That was Nox, and she was in a bad mood, though he didn't get the impression that it was directed at him, necessarily.

"Agh." He breathed, getting a real headache now. He couldn't imagine why, but it really annoyed him how Nox had suddenly stopped being respectful of his... mental space, "Can you quit doing that, _please_?"

She blinked black eyes at him, lids covered with very attractive dark chocolate makeup today, and Harry could tell that she was surprised and a little sidetracked from what she was going to say by the request. She collected herself in an instant, smiling ruefully in apology, "I'm sorry – I guess I'm just so caught up about worrying that we'll be discovered that I've been trying not to talk aloud."

It was a fake apology, and he could tell right away. Nox was a passable liar, much better than he himself had been at the beginning of the semester, probably still better than him, but Harry could tell when she made promises she didn't intend to keep. He pushed aside his annoyance for later – much later – and shrugged in reply, inviting her to carry on with whatever she wanted to talk about.

She leaned against the wall across from him and was about to start, when Kael made an appearance in the mouth of the hall they were occupying. He looked... alert, actually, and very serious, which was always a very bad sign. Harry's heart sunk.

Nox nodded to Kael, passing the duty of explaining on to him. Harry couldn't tell exactly what she said, an annoyance that went along with having Freak friends, but could tell by the way she settled back to watch and Kael seemed to be thinking up what to say.

"You see, Harry..." His voice was grim, with no taste of the usual dryness or sarcasm. He frowned and started again, "First, you have to promise to be very quiet when you find out, and not start cussing me out, because we're really not supposed to be telling you one of the two things, and the other thing you aren't supposed to know until later-"

"That's never stopped you before." Harry was apprehensive, and didn't like the way Nox was watching the hallway, or the way Kael had lowered his voice and slowly slunk into the hall. Harry's comment had come out more of n accusation than he had intended, so he shrugged before Kael could answer, "Whatever. Just talk."

Kael nodded, accepting the fact that things had changed now, but making no move at an apology. Things were different here – Harry's and Leo's help was allowed, and occasionally appreciated, but they were very much the odd ones out, and no one really _had_ to tell them anything.

Kael shot another look down the hall with his too-alert eyes and leaned in closer. He swallowed and seemed to decided it was best to get his news over with quickly, before someone found them, "The first thing is, the thing we're allowed to tell you... I'm sorry Harry, but J wants to send you back to Hogwarts. He's insisting on it, actually."

Harry blinked, much in the same way that Nox had when he had unexpectedly lost his cool. He had better control now, though, and forced his voice to stay quiet and mostly calm as he whispered, "Wait – _what?_"

Nox had been keeping watch, and nodded towards the vampire to continue his explanation. No one was coming. Yet. "It's not that we don't want you here in particular. I mean, Leo's allowed to stay, as far as I know. It's just that – your tipoff earlier... It save us, man. We would've been caught before we even had a chance to run without it. J thinks it would be good to have a – a sort of _spy _at Hogwarts for us.

"There's little anyone can do to help, just sitting around and waiting for the government to make a move. And we know you've been helping us all you can – but at Hogwarts, you'd be doing more help than _any_ of us can right now, so J wants you to do this for us – "

Nox interrupted, pulling her eyes away from the passage momentarily, though Harry knew she was still very much on alert, "And Lady Nakia – well, she practically threw a fit last night when she knew there were _two_ normies with us. She's older, you know – doesn't think our two... kinds of people... should associate with eachother. She was pissed, and – well – Wraith... families aren't like normal families. I've almost gotten kicked out before, and..."

Harry had been about to refuse – he didn't _want_ to go back to Hogwarts and wait around, and doubted his ability to find out anything useful, but then he noticed the way Nox seemed unusually ruffled, like she hadn't slept much last night, and how Lady Nakia's and Noir's friendliness had seemed... shallow last night.

He sighed slightly – no more than n irritated release of breath – and gestured vaguely, more than a little annoyed with the fact that he was a sucker for his friend's distress, "Whatever. I'll deal with it when someone officially tells me to leave. The other thing?"

Kael and Nox seemed relieved that their first secret had been so well received, but their ease was only temporary, and Kael grew more somber than before, "Okay, Harry – First, you must _never_ tell anyone that you heard this in advance – _never_. You're a normie Harry – you can't get the seriousness of this, but take my word for it – "

"I believe," An irritated, dry voice sounded from behind Kael. Both he and Nox had been too caught up in the next message, and had forgotten to watch the passage. All Harry could see was a dark shape, caused by the candle burning behind him, very big, and with one large, dark hand clamped firmly on Kael's shoulder. _J. Damn._

Kael let out a pained breath, and Harry just barely stopped himself from wincing in sympathy. J was a big guy, and would've been tough as a human, but he was a _vampire_ as well, and the guy sometimes seemed to forget how strong he was...

"I believe," the senior continued, just as dry, with a hint of steel behind his words, "That you two – you _three_ – have done enough _sharing_ for quite some time." The tall vampire was pissed. Even Harry could taste it in the air, and he wasn't even a Freak.

"Nox." The Wraith had been stealthily backing up, but not stealthily enough, apparently, "Go. I don't want to see you telling your normie friend any more... _delicate information_ again. Mind yourself, and I might forget this ever happened." He nodded a dismissal and Nox took the opportunity to quickly leave, down the passage. She walked until she rounded a corner, but then Harry could hear her footsteps speed into a run.

"Kael."

The redhead in question winced as he was pushed away roughly, and turned, cringing to face the senior. Harry had learned a lot about vampire society from Kael, so he knew his friend had reason to be nervous. Harry's eyes had adjusted to trying to read J's expression, and could tell that he was just barely able to contain his calm.

"I'm _not_ going to tell out Coven Leader about this, so stop that disgusting cowering. _I _don't want to have to be there to see His reaction." Kael seemed to relax a bit, though he seemed about to bolt at a moment's notice. J had been smart to hold onto him. Harry blinked, the words finally reaching his brain. _'Our Coven Elder'? That would make them, like... brothers or cousins or something... J could really pound him, if he felt like it, without getting in trouble for it..._

"_But,_" J leaned in, grabbing the front of the shorter vampire's shirt when he tried to back up a step, and showed an uncomfortable amount of fang as she warned, "We've got rules for a reason, kid. I better not catch you even _thinking_ about crossing the line again, got it?"

Kael nodded urgently, eyes wide, and was pushed backwards roughly as his shirt was released. Harry wished he was anywhere else – Kael obviously didn't want this overseen, and Harry certainly didn't like being left alone with a pissed vampire. It did explain something, though – J didn't have a lot of friends, not only because he didn't _want _any, but because he outranked his companions so completely.

The senior nodded, and Kael didn't make the pretense at composure that Nox had – he ran, practically _scurried_, away. Harry swallowed nervously and pressed himself against the wall, having to look way up to see J's expression, because he was so much taller. The vampire's face was totally smooth, but Harry wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.

Green eyes darted to the end of the hall not blocked by an angry senior – it was a turn, and it was easy to get lost in this sprawling house. He couldn't outrun the other on normal terms, but if he bolted unexpectedly, he would have the advantage...

J smiled in a way that was anything but reassuring. He laid an arm around the human's shoulders, and Harry shivered at the sudden cold, as well as the fact that he was now being more or less dragged down the hall and wouldn't be able to run _or_ fight in such a position.

"Well, _kid_." J turned the word into a threat, like he was saying, 'Well, short-guy-I'm-about-to-eat-for-lunch.' Harry was being led down the halls more or less at random, and knew the senior was drawing him away from any passer-bys. It was getting darker, too, which gave the vampire another advantage.

"Since you've already heard about it... I've decided to move up your departure. You leave in wo hours. Bree can drive you in the truck to that train station, where you wrote in your letter you were heading. King's Cross." He looked down at the normie, who nodded. Like he would refuse in such a position, anyway.

"Good. Now, while you're there, you _will_," J's choice of words made what he was going to say an order, not an option, "Watch _everyone_ who could know _anything_ of use. Don't tell me there's no one o watch, because I _know_ most of the_ professors_," He turned the title into an insult, dripping with disdain, "there are directly involved."

His voice softened with fake kindness for a moment, "I know – you don't want to spy on your _friends_." The tone was dropped, "I don't care. You will. Kael has probably told you more than he should have, so you know the repercussions when I say I am _ordering _you to return to Hogwarts and find out anything you can."

Harry gulped – yes, he did know what that meant. Normies weren't generally ordered around, but it worked the same. If he accepted and failed, J could pound the crap out of him. If he refused to accept... the senior could pound him until he changed his mind. He nodded, "Yes, sir." It sounded ridiculously formal, but it was the official reply.

"Good choice." The vampire smiled dangerously, "Now, about that little incident that almost happened back there." The hold on Harry's shoulder suddenly tightened, and Harry bit his tongue to keep from showing his discomfort and nervousness.

"I _suppose_ that you can't held _completely _accountable, since _they _ were telling _you..._" Harry knew J didn't actually believe that he wasn't guilty, and didn't allow himself to be lulled into a false since of security. The senior smiled even more widely, letting his fangs show, but his eyes were still hard and angry, "I also don't care whose fault it was. Anything like that happen again, and you will be held accountable as well."

The vampire studied him for a moment before seeming to come to some conclusion. The frightening smile disappeared, and Harry was released, "Get outta here." Harry was about to bolt, when J added, sounding like he was just giving Harry a friendly warning, disturbing after the earlier threats, "Whatever you do, don't panic. Write us – write _me_, if you really must – if anything... unusual happens. _Now_, go pack."

Harry went. Quickly.

* * *

When Harry retuned to the room he shared with Leo, and immediately wished he hadn't. Leo wasn't there, when for once his endless enthusiasm would be appreciated, but Nox and Kael were. And they weren't... looking so good.

Kael was pale, sitting on Harry's bed and leaning against the wall. He looked shaken, still, and possibly even worse than he had while in the hall. His hand didn't shake, because he was a vampire, probably, and he really wasn't that unusually pale at a second glance, but the stiff way he sat, his closed-off expression, his wide eyes, and the fact that he had taken off his hat the better to run his free hand through his hair all combined to give him an almost... _traumatized _expression.

But where his other hand was resting was even more distressing. Nox was usually very calm and collected, but, well... she was a _girl_, after all. Harry generally didn't have anything against girls, but he had to admit that they were a bit more emotional, and Freaks were no exception, apparently.

Nox had curled herself up next to Kael, her arms thrown around the vampire's neck as she buried her face in his shoulder. Kael was running a golden-orange hand through her unbound hair, and Harry could tell by the way she was shaking that she had been or was still crying.

Kael shot him a distressed look as Harry closed the door behind him, obviously not knowing what to do in such a situation, and uncomfortable with the fact that Nox – unshakeable, constant Nox – had been so upset by the run-in. Harry knew Kael couldn't say anything against J, so he could do little to calm his friend down. Nox had gotten off the easiest of all of them, but it had seemed to worry her the most.

Harry smiled, letting his friend know that he didn't mind being pulled into it all, and that he wasn't going to press for the rest of the information, and crossed the room to sit on Nox's other side. He really didn't know how to calm her down any better than Kael, but at least he could call J anything he wanted to without getting in trouble for it.

Kael gently shifted the shaking Wraith over to Harry, and Nox obliged by clinging hard to her new human teddy bear. Tears began to soak his shirt, and Harry was just glad that she was crying quitely – any more of a personality turnaround might have been too much to handle.

He caught Kael's eye and mouthed, "Pack for me?" over Nox's head. The vampire nodded and proceeded to throw things Harry's backpack. Harry managed to free an arm from Nox's grasp, and wrapped the other one protectively around her. He ran his fingers through her hair, just like Kael had, and was surprised at how smooth and silky her hair was. His fingers ran through the wavy, black locks from her neck to the middle of her back without encountering a single snag or knot.

"Hey, now, what's this all for?" Harry murmured quietly, though he didn't recieve a response, "Nox? Nixie?" The cute nickname, usually enough to inspire a glare on the quietest days, earned only a soft sniff. It was something anyway.

"Everyone's fine." Kael was occupied with sorting Harry's stuff from Leo's, which saved Harry's ego a bit, "We're all fine. Kael just got a warning, and J wasn't even mad at me." Kael looked up at this, knowing it was a lie. Harry smiled ruefully. Anything to calm Nox down, anyway.

"No one knows about it. You don't have to tell me whatever you were going to say – I don't even want to know," Another glance from Kael, who probably knew of the senior's not-so-subtle threats. Harry kept his mind clear, "And Noir doesn't know, and Lady Nakia doesn't know, and no one's gonna find out, okay? It's all fine..."

This got response – Nox warbled miserably, "But they _could have!_ And if Noir knew, than Lady Nakia would have found and she would have been so angry and I could never come back home _again!_" Her voice grew more distressed as she spoke, and Harry's shoulder was considerably more soaked by the time she finished.

Harry wrapped both arms around her, and tucked her head under his chin. She was like a sister to him, and he didn't like to see her this upset. Nox was small and freezing cold against his side, but softer than he had expected – somehow she always seemed like a marble statue, and not at all cuddle-able.

She sniffed, but shook less held so securely, "It's okay," Harry repeated soothingly, "I know – I don't know a lot about your family, but I know a lot about families in general. You know how I live with my aunt and uncle?" The head underneath his chin nodded slightly, "Well, this one time, my cousin was chasing after me with his friends, trying to beat me up. 'Harry Hunting,' they called it," Was that a smile against his collarbone?

"Well, I was running and not looking where I was going – I was still in primary school, and not very smart." Kael smirked at that – he was calmer with something to do, and being clung to by Nox was unusual enough to worry _anyone_, "And I ran straight into this little table in the hall, and knocked over this very nice vase my aunt had bought the other day.

"My cousin and his friends left, of course, so hey wouldn't get into trouble, and my aunt and uncle were furious – they _exploded_, and my aunt was just yellin' over and over _Get out!_, so I left. I was in primary school, remember, so I don't think the notion of getting kicked out really worked it's way into my brain. So I wandered down to the park a few blocks away and hung out there for – it must f been a few _hours_."

Nox had stopped shaking so badly, and Kael had gotten his stuff from the bathroom and set the stuff on the floor before coming over to rub the Wraith's back reassuringly. The clock on the wall told Harry he only had another fifteen minutes, and he didn't want to be late, so he hurried on with his story.

"You need to remember that my aunt and uncle can't _stand_ me. I lived in a cupboard 'till I was eleven or so," Admitting this was easier to them. They went to St. Brute's, after all, and most people there had even _more_ violent pasts than he did, "But, even still, just after it got dark, here was my aunt driving my uncle's company car, and telling me to get in before the neighbor's noticed."

He had glossed over the fact that it had been the evening the _following _night, and he had been cold and hungry and miserable, and knew very well what being kicked out entailed, and that Aunt Petunia had only took him back in after his teacher had called the house to see why he wasn't at school.

"And if _my family_ could be _that angry_ and take me back in so soon, I bet _your family_, who probably really cares a lot about you, and definitely wouldn't want people to talk about you getting kicked out, would never kick you out just because you _almost _told some normie something I'm not supposed to know."

Nox made a noise of dissent, but had calmed down a lot, "I gotta go now," Harry tried to make it sound like he would only be gone for a few minutes, and kept his mind clear of thoughts of Hogwarts, while Kael nodded, a promise to say goodbye to everyone for him. The clock read under ten minutes left. They carefully shifted the partially-calmed wraith back to Kael, and Harry grabbed his stuff and walked awkwardly towards the door.

Kael nodded a grave goodbye – Harry could hardly link this serious, alert figure with the sleepy, sarcastic genius of a few nights ago – and Harry nodded in return, before swinging his backpack over a should and quietly letting himself out the door.

He didn't run into anyone, thankfully, on his way towards the front of the building, and could only hope that was where Bree would meet him. She was a senior, like J, but seemed much nicer than him, and didn't seem to outrank everyone like the vampire did. Harry was just glad that J, himself, wouldn't be driving.

Bree was, in fact, waiting right b the front door. She was all smiles, which Harry took to mean that J hadn't told her about the unfortunate occurrence of earlier that day. She seemed to catch on to Harry's quiet mood, though, and didn't talk much on the way to the car – parked, of course, on the street, a ridiculous distance away from the door.

Harry climbed into the shotgun seat, and was surprised at how homey the interior was. After that afternoon, he had honestly been expecting the cab of J's truck to be more... grim. The seats were old brown leather, ripped in some places. The dash was just as beat up – but there was a shiny, new soundsystem that had obviously not come with the car.

Bree slammed her door behind her and started the engine, the entire car rumbling loudly. She made no move to her seatbelt, probably because there were none, and explained the age of the car casually, "J had to get this car special, from a friend of his, so it would have an ID thing that cars get somewhere. He didn't really have much to choose from."

Harry responded with a distracted noise. The events of the day were finally catching up to him – with worrying over the unusually-distressed Nox and everything, he hadn't let the adrenaline properly run it's course, so his hands were shaking now, and his mouth felt paper dry.

Smoothly turning onto the country road, Bree continued on, unbothered by his silence, "J told me – well, grumbled at me, 'cause he's been in a bad mood today – that you need an alibi for where you were last night and this morning. Got a plan yet?"

They sped past a speed limit sign. They were going fifty kilometers over the speedlimit, though the car didn't feel like it at all. A Freak spell, probably. "I'm still working on it." That was a lie, of course – what time did he have to formulate a plan? – but no one needed to know that.

Bree had been just making conversation, apparently, because she just hummed in response and leaned over to better read the small writing on the radio, leaving only one hand on the wheel, and her long braids making curtains on both sides of her face, completely blocking her view of the road.

The car didn't waver so much as a centimeter from the center of the road.

The radio turned to a CD, and she sat back up, eyes on the road again, though one hand remained on the volume dial, "It'll be almost an hour before we get there. You've got time enough. Like Coheed and Cambria?" She didn't give him time to respond, "Great."

And so heavy rock, coupled with a sometimes-falsetto, sometimes-dark singer, filled the cab. Literally filled it – it was turned way up, so that the music thumped around them and reverberated around the small space. They got some odd looks from the locals for a while, before they got into the London area.

It gave Harry time to think of an alibi anyway – if he were some wimpy, private-school kid trying to find Kings Cross without a car, and having to break out of a secure facility to do so, what would he do? Invisibility cloak, obviously. He had brought it with him – he knew better than to leave something valuable at St. Brute's. Carlos was cool and all, but... it never hurt to be cautious.

So, he was a wimpy, private-school kid trying to get to King's Cross without a car, and standing on the edge of the road where only school busses were allowed. So he slips in under the cloak and... tries not to be noticed. Harry made a mental note to mention that he had almost been discovered – by a Freak, probably. Or someone he thought was a Freak. Best not to tell anyone that he could detect the difference.

But the buses yesterday were heading to the nearest mall, and he had all night to kill before showing up at the train station. What would he do to get distracted with. He had... gotten high? _Where in the name of **God** did that come from? That would **not** go over well._ Harry had tried some drugs with Carlos about a month after joining St. Brutes. He had been violently ill for three days, and couldn't go to the infirmary, because they'd be able to tell what had made them sick.

Amend the question – He was _not_ a delinquent, who was standing around at a shopping mall and trying to get to Kings Cross, and had to spend all night doing it. He could... Harry frowned in thought, running his hand along the base of the window. He had no idea where they were, it was surprising Bree wasn't getting lost in all the traffic.

Wait.

_Getting lost._

So, he was a wimpy, private-school kid who had snuck out of a secure facility, hidden on a bus going to the mall, had almost gotten caught by someone who _might_ have been a Freak, gotten off at a shopping mall, hidden on a different bus that he didn't remember the name of, and gone in the wrong direction all night, until he got off this morning and caught another ride back to Kings Cross.

Now the only problem was making sure that Dumbledore would believe him, keeping in mind that he could tell what Harry was thinking at _least_ as well as Nox.

He was completely screwed on that.

_Especially_ if Snape was in the room.

Damn.

_Alright, Potter, did Nox or Kael or Jasmine or **anyone** ever tell you anything about keeping them **out** of your head? _Harry asked himself, know what the obvious answer was – no, they hadn't. The issue had never really come up. They generally let him have his mental space, when they remembered, so there had been no cause to tell him how to keep people out.

_Occlumency, maybe?_ Harry dismissed that thought immediately. Yes, he knew that he what he needed to do was basically occlumency, but what would be more helpful was having fake memories of his story. Not a lot, but enough to stop Dumbledore from taking a closer look. Like just normal lying – confidence and a few details could make up for a lack of further evidence.

_Wait._ He stopped running his fingers along the base of the window. He couldn't tell, but he could have smudged it, and he really didn't want to get on J's nerves any more than he already did. Hadn't Jasmine said something, a few weeks ago? He had had a dream about living with Sirius – a stupid dream, he knew – the previous night, and when Jasmine was talking about her Uncle's cabin, he rustic house he and Sirius were living in during the dream came to mind, realistically enough that Jasmine asked about it.

You didn't need real memories for occlumency, then. Just, when he talked about leaving St. Brute's, he had to remember some time he had left St. Brutes on foot. That was already a problem – e had never left the Center on foot. Harry scowled, green eyes narrow in frustration. He only had ten minutes or so left, and, with his luck, Snape or Dumbledore might actually be one of the people waiting for him.

Shrugging that problem off, Harry moved on to the next part of his story. Going to the mall on the bus and trying not to be seen. That was easy enough. The girls had all decided it would be fun to kiss him goodbye, so he had spent the return trip trying not to be noticed, because he couldn't be certain if they had left lipstick on him or not, and RD had found his nervousness too entertaining to tell him that they hadn't left any mark at all. Safe to say no one would be familiar enough with the area to tell which way the memory-Harry was traveling.

Now – a nighttime bus trip. That was harder. Well, theoretically, if he just remembered looking out the window, no one would be able to tell what he was riding in exactly. So the trip to Nox's house for the first bus, and the trip to King's Cross for the second.

Which left Harry with the original problem – how to remember leaving St. Brute's on foot, when he had never actually done it.

The car skidded to a halt in front of King's Cross. So he was running a bit late in planning. Biting his lip, Harry finally settled on remembering one gym class when he was running around the Center with Kael, as the vampire was sighing over how easy it would be to just run right out the gates, if only they could get by without the guards seeing them.

Harry jumped out of the door and was about to close it, when he remembered his bag, in the back seat. Trying to act as if he had planned it, Harry stepped halfway back in and grabbed it, but he wasn't quite as successful in hiding his forgetfulness as he had hoped.

Bree snickered.

Harry glared, momentarily surprised at his courage.

Bree laughed harder, and handed him a folded note. Harry nodded a goodbye and subtly tucked it into the waistband of his pants. It sounded stupid, yes, but it was the main way people got forbidden goods on campus, since they were unlikely to be searched there.

Harry slammed the door and froze.

His _clothes_ – he was wearing baggy black jeans, a partially rumpled grey shirt – it had dried weird after Nox had gotten it all wet – and a _trench coat._ Typical private-schoolboy? Not really.

Swearing under his breath, Harry ducked his head and looked around to see if anyone was waiting for him outside the Platform. He didn't recognize any wizards right away, but there were several athletic-looking men in outdated clothes that _could _be aurors. Reaching into his backpack, seeming much more casual than he felt, Harry drew out a pair of sunglasses and slipped them on his nose.

His scar was covered in concealer that Nox had taught him how to use. It was gay, he knew, as Carlos had said many times, but it was nice to be able to spike his hair without people noticing that he was the Boy Who Lived – To Be Shoved Down The Stairs. Harry's telltale eyes were also hidden now.

_Be calm, Potter, act natural._ It was easier said than done. One of the possible-aurors was standing right outside the door to the men's room, Harry would have to walk right passed him. _Here goes everything. _

Harry readjusted his bag on his right shoulder, and walked with calm steps towards the door, repeating the lyrics of a song Bree had played _only _seven times on the way, just incase one of the people waiting could use legilimency. It never hurt to be too careful.

Actually, it could, but that really didn't matter.

Three steps from the door.

_You're just the average student, skipping class, hopping on a train going anywhere you want – just **away** from here. _

Two steps.

_Think like in the Freak dorm – confidence is the difference between passing through calmly and getting eaten. Literally._

One step.

_Dear God and whatever Powers that exist, let this work, let this work, let this work._

The door slammed shut behind him.

Harry wanted to sag in relief, but kept his pace steady and untroubled as he stepped into a stall. With a speed he learned after weeks of five-minute showers, Harry shoved his clothes into the bottom of his bag. He hesitated for a moment – St. Brute's uniform, or Dudley's clothes – before remembering the alterations RD had helped him make to the uniform.

His hand brushed the note before he started changing though, and he pulled it out, to memorize the information in case it got lost later. The current address was at the top, followed by J's cell number with the warning that it was not to be used unless it was an emergency. Enderneath was scrawled, hurried, in J's handwriting, just like the warning

_Don't worry about the your wizard-friends learning about your... social turnabout. Make sure they don't suspect you of liking the Freaks, but... scare those normies good for us._

Harry smiled, knowing this was practically a bribe. The thought of having to pretend to be who he used to be... Harry wasn't even sure he _could _do it, even if he really wanted to. But, being the regular Brute's delinquent would make enough waves that no one would think he was hiding something, and it would stop Dumbledore from messing around with his life again.

Harry smiled.

Harry crossed over to the sink, and scrubbed the concealer hurriedly off his scar, just gently enough to make sure he wouldn't get a great red splotch on his forehead, and ran his hands nervously through his spiked hair. _Now or never, I suppose._

The bathroom exited in two places, and Harry left through the one he hadn't entered through. There were no possible aurors on this side, and Harry wasted no time it crossing the street and walking around the corner to the bus station, hiding behind the crowds. He knelt behind the bench, out of view of the aurors at the train station, until a bus pulled up. Then, along with the other people disembarking passengers, he walked across the street to the station, forcing himself to be calm.

The aurors didn't seem to notice that this was the second time they had seen someone in a trench coat, and no one made any motion towards his scar, so Harry shrugged them off – perhaps he had been too careful, and they really weren't aurors anyway.

He leaned against the platform until and loud, excited family crossed in front of him, before stepping back neatly through the barrier. He turned, to be met with Snape's dark eyes.

"Potter."

_Welcome home, I guess._

A/n – Okay, we all know there isn't an excuse for my lateness. My bad. It's longer than usual, but has a lot of spelling issues. I didn't feel like doing a second draft, after making everyone wait for so long.


	8. seven

He leaned against the platform until a loud, excited family crossed in front of him, before stepping back neatly through the barrier. He turned, to be met with Snape's dark eyes.

"Potter."

_Welcome home, I guess._

Chapter Seven

"Professor." Harry's tone was completely blank, hiding his surprise. Snape had a dark feeling around him, like the Freaks Harry had just left, but the potions master was just... swimming in the feeling. And it wasn't the nice sort of feeling like Nox or Jasmine held – it held the smell of blood and death in it, sticking on the inside of Harry's mouth and filling his nose. He wanted to be sick.

He didn't, of course, because that would be stupid.

Instead, he stepped out of the way of the doorway-thing to avoid being run over and turned his thoughts carefully to other memories of Kings Cross and the platform as he asked casually, "Sent to fetch me, Professor?" Now faced with the actual prospect of returning to Hogwarts, Harry felt an unavoidable urge to put it off. When responding to J's order, his reaction was simple – he had chosen returning to Hogwarts over being beat up. Now...

Snape's response interrupted any further thoughts, "Unfortunately, Potter, that is the situation." The potions professor started walking and Harry kept up with him, making sure to walk almost directly beside the man instead of trailing behind. Unexpectedly, Snape turned and glared with no small amount of malice.

"May I inquire," His voice was low enough not to be overheard by the crowd, but no less irritated, "What could have _possibly_ possessed you to leave like that?" Not waiting for a response, he continued, "You could have been picked up by death eaters at any moment. Everyone has been even more _concerned_ for _Precious Potter_, and I've had to wait here all day, just on the chance that you might deem to show up. And that's all not even mentioning the state Albus has been in." Snape didn't seem to care about how the Headmaster felt, only annoyed with the effect it had had on life in the castle.

Harry shrugged, rather lamely. His main plan had to be scrapped with the abandonment of the scared schoolboy approach, so he just had to wing it. Though, to be honest, he was rather impressed that the professor hadn't even seemed to notice his change since last spring. He went with his natural response and replied, not at all apologetic, "My bad?"

"Your _bad?_" Snape's voice was incredulous, and he apparently considered that train of conversation too stressful to continue at the moment, "Regardless, there is no excuse for you taking so long to get here. You cannot possibly hope I will believe the bus ride here took almost twenty-four hours."

Harry shrugged again. They had come to a stop near a list of arrivals and departure times, so Harry took the opportunity to lean against the wall, crossing his arms casually and trying to hide his sudden exhaustion, the after-effects of spending the night with Leo catching up on him, "Oh, you know." It was a casual phrase, used only to stall. Snape couldn't possibly know his story because Harry himself only had the vaguest idea of what he was going to stay.

"I caught a bus out," He remembered a bus trip at random away from St. Brute's, "But then I was tired, you know? Fell dead asleep," Carefully, he brought up the feeling of drifting off in the back of J's truck, "And when I woke up I was clear on the other side of town. Took ages to find a ride back in. Guess that's my bad again, too. Ooops."

Repeated use of the muggle phrase earned another glare from Snape, which Harry ignored. Having found whatever he was looking for on the list, the professor turned his full attention back to Harry, "And I'll have you know that, though you've sufficiently fooled the Headmaster, I certainly do not believe the message you sent us, particularly after seeing your current... condition." He directed a sneer at Harry's trench coat

_Damn._ Harry hadn't planned an excuse for that yet. This conversation wasn't going as well as he had planned. He quickly changed his '_Oh, shit._' expression into something mildly embarrassed. He brought a conversation he had had with two seniors in October to the front of his mind, remembering what had occurred after he had failed to pay the charge for staircase privileges, "In all honesty..."

He cleared his throat, as though he didn't want to admit the situation, "Some... people... had promised to throw me off the roof or through a window – my choice – because I owed something to them," He let Snape guess what he was owing for. Even getting the man distracted on his status as a possible druggie was better than getting caught in a lie, "And I didn't want to stick around and see if they would keep their word," He shrugged again, feigning discomfort, "I needed an excuse to leave."

Snape smirked, apparently buying the ruse – _Thank God_ – and stated briskly, "Well, _Potter_," His name was turned into an insult, "The train to Hogsmeade departs in a few minutes, so if you would kinsdly get on board and _stay there_, I will join you after I wrap up some unfinished business." Cutting off the reply Harry wasn't honestly planning, Snape finished with a glare and swept off towards the muggle side of the station. _So there **are** aurors out there. Score one for avoiding **that** mess._

Harry pushed himself away from the wall and made his way through the crowd. It wasn't quite so bad as it was every year on the first of September, but the large groups of families and friends still put his nerves on edge, especially after lingering stress over J and dealing with a crying Nox and everything... yeah. He needed a break.

To that end, Harry found an empty compartment, dropped his backpack on the floor, and took a leaf out of Kael's book – he stretched out on the seat like it was perfectly normal and relaxed every muscle in his body. It was a trick he had learned at St. Brutes – even if it seemed impossible to fall asleep wherever you were (In class, for example) you could just relax and either fall asleep or at least get some much-needed rest.

Unfortunately, his rest was cut abruptly short as Snape jerked the compartment door open with his usual scowl and closed it firmly behind him. The picture of laziness, Harry opened his eyes long enough to verify he had no reason to care before closing them again. Keeping his thoughts vaguely tired and sleepy-sounding, he tried to work through Snape's abrupt new feeling.

The professor was probably around as powerful as J, but not significantly more, and he couldn't touch the vampire when it came to the scary-ness factor. Harry wasn't too adept at distinguishing the different kind of Freaks by sense alone, but Snape was definitely leaning toward the Kael-and-J end of the spectrum – maybe even past them. He couldn't imagine why he only just noticed the feeling now, and not the first time he had seen the professor in first year. Maybe being around so many Freaks?

He hurriedly turned that line of thinking away as Snape demanded incredulously, "You intend to _sleep_ all the way to Hogwarts? Knowing how much trouble you've caused? That you may very well be expelled for sheer idiocy when we get to the school, should I have anything to say about it?" The professor sounded more surprised than offended. Harry hadn't realized he was acting so differently than his previous norm. He was tired, he was gonna sleep. End of story.

Harry faked a very realistic yawn and explained coolly, not even opening his eyes, "Yeah, I'm gonna sleep. I was only gone for a day and I didn't ask anyone to looking for me – not my fault if they did. And I can't be expelled for stuff outta school, anyway. So... yeah. Sleeping sounds good. I was up half the night – maybe more than half."

Snape made a vague that's-your-own-fault-don't-complain-you-idiot noise, but seemed content to leave well enough alone. Harry was glad to be able to keep to himself for a while, but he couldn't really think about anything important with a legilimens in the room – it just wasn't a good idea. His coat was warm, though, and the seat was actually much softer than he was used to at St. Brutes (his mattress had been stolen a few weeks ago when he forgot to lock the door and had been replaced with something than felt like a 2-by-4) so he quickly started drifting off to sleep.

Like in the back of J's truck, though, he kept himself to a very light doze, and forcibly redirected his thoughts whenever they strayed too close to a delicate topic. Eventually, however, he must have slipped into a deeper sleep because the train screeched to a halt in what seemed like an impossibly short amount of time. That was bad – all year he'd been practicing not sleeping too deeply as a protection against occasional attacks by RD-and-friends – and it meant he had to have been more tired than he had realized.

Harry yawned, this time for real, and dug his sunglasses out of his pocket before slipping them over his nose. His hair wasn't spiked – no real time that morning – so he reached up and vaguely brushed it over to where it probably covered his scar.

Snape was already pulling open the compartment door, so Harry swung his feet to the floor and grabbed his backpack in one motion, already mostly awake. Snape didn't say a word as Harry fell into step beside him. He kept his face smooth, but he had to keep calling up the memory of J ("I am _ordering _you to return to Hogwarts and find out anything you can.") to stop himself from turning back to the station and just screwing the whole plan of returning to school.

He couldn't be certain what he found so repulsive about the idea. Harry certainly didn't fear the Headmaster's response – that was almost laughable. He honestly didn't give a crap what his friends though about them. He wasn't really angry at Hermione and Ron... he just didn't care. Classes would be easy after St. Brutes, as weird as it was to think that way. No geometry at Hogwarts, at least.

But the thought of so many studious people (And in all honesty, rich people. They went to a _private school_ after all. With the exception of maybe a few families, everyone there had to have some sort of money) all in uniform, arriving in class at time, not knowing how to play poker, carrying zero weapons, never swearing... It all seemed unfamiliar after a few months of St. Brutes. And the staring. At St. Brutes he was a newbie – to be shoved down the stairs on sight – but no one cared beyond that.

Back at Hogwarts, though, he would be the Boy Who Lived again, without even the insulting continuances his friends and acquaintances had made (-to Sleep through Class, -to be a Retard, -Unfortunately for the Rest of Us...). Harry didn't like staring – it was one of the reasons he had changed his appearance in the first place. He wasn't about to change back to blend in, but...

They were approaching the doors to the castle, now, and Harry had to cut his rambling short. _Now or never, I guess_. He resettled his backpack on his right shoulder, popped his collar, and removed all lingering disease from his face. He brushed the note in his pocket – _scare those normies good_. They _were _all mostly wimpy private school people – they couldn't hurt him if they tried.

Harry let Snape go through first – it was probably important to the professor from some reason like _respect_ or something stupid like that, and Harry honestly didn't care to bother annoying him – and caught the heavy door with one hand and slipped in, walking beside the older man as quickly as possible without actually have to look like he was hurrying.

In all honesty Harry had only the vaguest assumption that they were heading towards Dumbledore's office before they turned onto the hallway leading to it. He hadn't really cared about knowing and had held no particular inclination to ask while on the train, probably due to the fact that he had been asleep. Unfortunately, he didn't have any idea what the Headmaster would say to him and, therefore, had absolutely no plan or falsified memories set up.

He repressed his natural, "_I am totally screwed_," response to the situation. It was _Dumbledore_, after all. Beyond his political power and skill at legilimency and maniac control over Harry's life and being really, really old and all that... he was still basically a principle. And principles were, by a rule, usually nothing to get really worried about. Some ranted and yelled, others tried to explain in calm terms why you should be taken out and shot for being such an idiot, others offered lemon drops... but none could actually do anything serious to a student.

The gargoyle jumped aside to a sneered, "Laffy Taffy." It actually would have sounded fairly comical if Harry wasn't trying so hard at not trying so hard at not being nervous. His boots made a light tap on each step of the spiral staircase. It wasn't loud, but it echoed in the small space. The staircase had to be there intentionally to make people nervous, Harry decided, and it was just like Dumbledore to use that sort of tactic – it wasn't obviously scary, but noises, like someone's heartbeat, seemed much louder in the small space.

Harry pushed the last of his nameless worries to the side – they were retarded, anyway – and stepped up into Dumbledore's office. It was just as usual – silver trinkets moving all over, Fawkes's cage open and empty in the corner – and the Headmaster himself was just as typical. Silver hair, twinkling blue eyes, eating lemon drops.

The Headmaster actually did a double take when he saw the Boy Who Lived, which more than made up for Harry's original discomfort at returning to the school. He got over it quickly enough, and gestured the student towards a plush chair with a grand, "Harry, my boy! So good to see you! Take a seat, take a seat. I don't suppose you would care for a lemon drop?"

Harry sat on the edge of the chair, refusing to relax into the cushions. Something about them felt weird, and he didn't want to risk being affected by anything. He shook his head mutely at the offer of candy – the mention of food made his stomach roll, but he quickly forced that thought out of his head, turning his attention strictly to one of the silver instruments so the Headmaster couldn't pick up on anything.

It worked. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair as he ate another candy, offering a smile and a vague, "You don't know what you're missing, my boy." One of Harry's hands clenched tightly around the arm of the chair at the repeated use of that term. 'Newbie' was bad enough, 'Normie' was even worse... but 'my boy' was just about the most annoying term that readily came to mind.

The Headmaster poured Harry a cup of tea that reeked of mint almost strongly enough to cover the mustiness that meant it was spelled. He accepted it, held it in his hands as if to warm them – in all honesty, his hands were rather cold – but made no move to drink it and kept the steam well away from his face. Just in case.

Dumbledore finally seemed to tire of trying to trick Harry into whatever sort of spells they all were and set down his own teacup as his eyes stopped the annoying twinkling and grew stern, "Harry, my boy," _Say that one more time and I throw you out the window_, "You need to stop acting so rashly. We can't protect you if we don't know where you are. I understand that perhaps the –ah – _darker_ creatures at that school seemed dangerous but we had the situation completely under control."

Harry wanted, so badly, to tune the Headmaster out. It was boring and too many more remarks about the Freaks would get him too angry to control the thoughts he was projecting. But there was a chance that something of use would be mentioned, so he dug his thumbnail into the opposite hand and forced himself to sit there and pay attention.

"When you left, you had no protection, my boy." _You have a death wish, don't you?_ "We couldn't help you. And the... darker creatures we mentioned somehow managed to slip our attention. We didn't catch a single one of them – we still have no idea where they went to. We couldn't have helped you if you ran into them! We have reason to believe they're all traveling in one group – if you had stumbled upon them, there's no knowing what could have happened to you.

"And all the aurors were out – are out – looking for them. Fudge refused to send any off to find you. Do you understand the seriousness of this, Harry? Not only are there Death Eaters about, but there is a literal _army_ of evil beings likely aligned with Voldemort on the loose. It's not safe for you out there, my boy." Harry's thumb nail dug deeper into his hand, but his expression remained clear as the Headmaster's voice lost the sternness and he tried to make it seem like he honestly cared,

"Do you understand, Harry? We only want what's best for you – we want to help you. There was a security scare at the beginning of this year – someone was trying to impersonate one of our professors. We only wanted to keep you safe by sending you to that school," A poorly hidden tone to his voice told Harry that Dumbledore didn't think the changes caused by St. Brutes were good ones, "But now everywhere is dangerous, and Hogwarts is the safest in this new light. Do you understand? Will you be more careful, my boy? For us?"

All Harry wanted to do was tell where Dumbledore could put his 'my boy' or ask who 'they' were, but he did his best to mold his face into the correct expression – cowed, probably. It didn't work, so he dropped his head to hide it, letting his shoulders slump forward. Trying to get some middle ground between past- and current-Harry, he responded, "Yeah... Yeah, I get what you're sayin'." The words were less polite than he might have previously used, but the voice was soft and a little shaken.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, touching the back of his neck subtly with a still-freezing hand to make himself shiver. Time to assure them the change was only physical, he was still 'their' ally, "Yeah... I had some Freaks – dark creatures – in one of my classes. Just freshmen, but... creepy. There's a rumor the Freaks killed someone last year... I would hate to meet them when they're already on the run." He pulled up J's face in his mind, when the senior was at his Freakiest.

Dumbledore soaked it up, giving a relieved smile that he thought Harry wouldn't catch. He reached over to pat Harry's arm soothingly. Harry's other hand had fallen into his lap, hidden from sight, and it clenched into a fist. Lately physical contact from a normie had felt so _weird_ – Harry cut his thoughts off and concentrated on the mint smell of his tea.

"It's alright, my boy." _Shut up, shut up, shut up_, "They can't get in here. You'll be safe with us." Harry looked up and forced a relieved smile. He slowly stretched his fingers out of their fist, getting his emotions back under control. Judging the conversation near the end, he lifted the cup to his lips and – carefully not inhaling the steam – faked a swallow and fought the urge to lick the remaining moisture off his lip. The Headmaster seemed even more pleased with that.

Sitting back with a smile, Dumbledore continued in a happier tone, "Well, I'm sorry to say there's no quidditch this year." Harry was surprised to find that he didn't care but made an attempt at a disappointed expression anyway, "Instead, we're hosting the Tri-Wizard Tournament!" That seemed familiar... _Oh, yeah, Duh._ While they covered the past in class during Magical History, Mr. Callaghan often assigned reports on current events for outside of class. They had gone over it almost first thing that year.

"Yeah, I heard about that. Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and us, right?" Harry normally wouldn't have replied with more than a, "Yeah." but he wanted to prove that he knew enough about the topic to get the Headmaster to shut up and let him go do something with even the pretense of being remotely interesting.

Dumbledore's smile faltered a bit. He had obviously wanted to share the news. He quickly returned to twinkling, though, "Yes, my boy!" _Die, die, die_, "Well... I've drawn you up a schedule! It's about time for dinner," The thought of food made Harry want to jump off the astronomy tower, "So you can be on your way, my boy!" He handed Harry his schedule and patted his arm again before waving the Boy Who Lived off towards the staircase.

Harry accepted the schedule and forced another smile as he exited the office. The moment he cleared the gargoyle, he wiped the remaining tea off his lip with his sleeve. Just a few drops probably wouldn't hurt, but... it usually didn't hurt as much to be safe. He walked tensely down a few halls at random until he was out of hearing and sight of the Headmaster or any students.

Inexplicably angry, Harry slammed a fist into the stone wall, causing both his hand and the wall to emit popping noises. His knuckles burned and his wrist ached, but he punched the wall again, even harder. He couldn't say exactly why he was so angry – it could be the spells or the way the Headmaster had spoken of the Freaks or the repeating of 'my boy' – but he had the distinct impression that, under normal circumstances, he wouldn't even have been fazed.

That knowledge didn't do anything to soothe his temper, though, and he smashed his hand against the wall one final time, jarring his entire body. Feeling a little better, Harry glanced down at his hand. There was blood on his knuckles and on the wall, but that was quickly mopped up with a black sleeve. His hand would probably bruise, but there was no other notable damage. He smoothed his hair with shaking hands, straightened his sleeves, and headed off towards Gryffindor Tower.

It wasn't until he was halfway down the hall that Harry caught a good look at the wall.

There was an indentation, the size and shape of a first, in the stone.

* * *

Harry only stopped running when he started hearing the voices of other students. He leaned, breathing hard, against the cold stone as he regained his composure. Yeah, running didn't help anything. He knew. But he hadn't been able to stop himself, and it _did_ help burn off some adrenaline.

Once he could breathe and think more clearly, Harry straightened his sleeves and collar, adjusted his hair, shrugged his shoulders. It was fun, to be able to pop his collar. At Brutes, only seniors could do it, but Harry severely doubted anyone was going to try to stop him here. It _was _a private school, after all. Feeling better, but still sick to his stomach, he walked calmly to the Fat Lady, thankfully without running into anyone.

She was the same as ever, meaning that she refused to let him in without the password. Harry frowned. _This is just stupid. As if a **portrait** can stop me from going anywhere._ He was an inch away from just prying the door opened when he realized it could be so much easier. Casually he brushed his hair away from his scar, "I just got into the school – Dumbledore said he was 'having a moment' and couldn't remember the password – I was just supposed to go on in."

Seeing the Fat Lady was still indecisive, Harry gave a rueful smile, "He said it wouldn't be a problem for me because it's not like there'd be any suspicion of me being a dark wizard or anything." He faked a laugh at the hilarity of the idea. Apparently even portraits liked to avoid being laughed at, because she smiled like she had agreed with him all along and allowed him into the Tower.

The common room was just the same garish red and overbright gold as always – no surprise there. It was empty, though, which was a little weird. The clock read just past seven, and though he couldn't exactly remember the meal times, Harry guessed dinner had just started. Thankful for the silence, he climbed up to the fourth year boy's dorm. He received a momentary shock when he saw his trunk at the foot of a bed and Hedwig perched on the headboard, but he brushed it off.

Flopping onto the bed (it was much softer than he was used to), Harry gave the owl a soft stroke and sent her down to the Owlry before he dug through his backpack for a notebook and a pen. It took a while – it was buried under a pile of clothes and, embarrassing but true, hair products. He could only find his History of Magic notebook, which was totally full, but the backs of the pages were clean.

Just in case he lost the slip of paper, Harry copied J's cell phone number on a page near the center of the notebook. A few lines down he wrote _Day One – _and then stopped and stared at it for a while. What had he found out so far? He thought back to the conversation with the Headmaster and scrawled _D thinks 'army' Freaks with LV._ Vague enough. Even if someone rifled his notebook ad found it, that wouldn't make much sense.

He tapped his pencil against the paper a couple times and scrawled _D thinks Freaks 1 group._ It didn't seem particularly important, but J had wanted every bit of information reported. _D caught 0 Freaks – 0 info._ That seemed like a pitiful amount of news, and Harry had the strong impression that J would not hesitate to show his displeasure if Harry wasn't successful in finding information. There was no knowing when he'd get another chance to talk to someone about the Freaks, so Harry tried again.

It didn't seem to apply much, but her wrote it down anyway – _SS, HW teach, Freak?_ A few seconds of staring at the paper later, and he added _D think Freaks can't get HW?_ _D thinks no Freaks in HW? _ True enough – though he might have been lying to put Harry more at ease. Hazarding a guess, he added _D not able to tell Freak from normie?_ Even with the less solid facts, it didn't seem like much. It would probably be better to try to find something else before sending it off, to avoid J's temper.

Harry's head snapped up as he heard footsteps outside the door and talking voices. He glanced at the clock and swore – eight already, and he hadn't even noticed. As casually as he could, Harry slipped the pen and notebook under his pillow and assumed a 'relaxing' position and expression. He crossed his booted feet, linked his hands behind his head, and let his eyes drift halfway closed.

The door opened and then closed. One pair of feet walked in. Something hit a bed with a soft thump. Some shuffling. The shuffling stopped abruptly, to be followed with a few steps. Hesitantly, a voice spoke up, "H-Harry? Is that... you?" He knew that voice, though it had deepened a bit since he had last heard it.

Harry opened his eyes slowly, easily succeeding in seeming a little sleepy and out of it. A familiar redhead was staring at him from halfway across the room. The Boy Who Lived faked another yawn – he was doing that a lot lately – and swung himself into a sitting position so that his feet were resting on the floor. He rubbed his eyes gently and stretched his shoulders, as if he had been asleep for a while.

Finally, Harry looked up at his friend with a vague smile, "Hey, Ron. I'm back, I guess. What's up over here?" It was so... strange, seeing the other boy. He seemed thinner, paler, more gangly and geekish than Harry remembered. Seeing someone with their hair combed, shoes tied, shirt buttoned up, and wearing a _tie_... it was eerie, almost, after so much time away.

Judging by his expression, Ron was experiencing a similar sort of surprise. Harry knew he hadn't changed _that_ much – new clothes and improved hair weren't that startling. Gym class and getting pounded on a regular basis (or running from said pounding) had made him a little more fit, with a tanner complexion. He might have put on an inch or two, maybe. Nothing terribly surprising.

Ron seemed to disagree, though, and stared for several more seconds before being able of deciding on one change to mention, "Harry... your glasses?" The Boy Who Lived frowned, uncomprehending, before reaching up to touch his glasses. Or, rather, where his glasses should have been. His hand passed through empty air. _Wait... what? But I can see fine!_ He didn't remember just getting rid of them. He always picked them up after showering and getting dressed. He guessed that one day he just... hadn't picked them up when he didn't need them.

Harry, despite being considerably puzzled and a bit shaken by that, waved it off like it was nothing, "Oh, yeah. My prescription stopped working so I got a new one and decided on contacts instead." Ron was still staring. _Snap out of it! I'm not _that_ different!_ "They get dry and feel weird sometimes, but it's a lot better than glasses, I think."

Ron finally got himself together and nodded shakily in agreement, but he was still staring at Harry as if the Boy Who Lived was going to jump up and eat him or something insane like that. The redhead sat down on his bed – it was on the other side of the room, a fact neither of them failed to notice – and said, rather lamely, "Didn't see you at dinner."

Harry nodded in confirmation. With his Freak friends, even with his normal friends at St. Brutes, they didn't waste time with yes-and-no-question sort of conversations. They knew eachother well enough that a word or two would do instead of whole sentences. It wasn't that they talked less, just faster and with less repeated words.

Harry got that Hogwarts was different, though he couldn't remember much of the previous year, and elaborated for the sake of conversation, "Yeah. By the time I got here, dinner had already started. I wasn't real hungry, so I came up here and crashed for a while." Mostly true. It didn't really matter, anyway.

There was a short silence while Ron seemed to try to find a way of saying something that was on his mind. Finally, he said, "So... I heard your Aunt and Uncle sent you to some muggle school. What was it called? What was it like?" It went unsaid, but Ron was obviously asking, _What was it like to change you so much?_

Harry brought his feet up to sit Indian-style on the bed, mostly for an excuse to move. When had it gotten so awkward and formal to talk to Ron? "Yeah. Sent me to St. Brutes – St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys, if you want the long version. It was..."

A small smile broke onto Harry's face as he cast about for a summary. It seemed weird but St. Brutes had been awesome. Crazy awesome, "...pretty great. The people our age – freshman, newbies – and people a year or so older were all cool. The seniors were kinda scary at first. Spent the whole first month with a black eye on one side or the other." Harry grinned. His friends at St. Brute's had always laughed his injuries aside, almost like it was cool to come away with only a couple bruises.

Ron didn't seem to be thinking the same way, though. Now that it occurred to him to think about it, Harry couldn't remember ever getting seriously beaten up by another student at Hogwarts. Fights happened, yeah, but the hazing was weirdly absent. Ron was still a bit shocked, "Man... That's _awful_."

Shaking his head, Harry tried to explain, "That's just how the seniors were – are, actually. I kept forgetting and using their doors, or once I took the fire escape down because I was in a hurry, and then I didn't have the money to pay for staircase privileges when two seniors were trying to shake me down for cash. After I got the rules, it was cool. Not a big deal."

The redhead still seemed shocked so Harry added dismissively, "Besides, I was a geek when I first got there. A loser. I didn't get how to blend in or fight back or anything. I was just, you know, a target. If I were a senior I woulda probably pounded myself, too. It's just... normal, you know? Not anything personal, just something you do."

That didn't seem to help the matter. If anything, Ron looked even more shocked, maybe even a little scared. He obviously _didn't_ know what Harry was talking about. Sure, Harry wasn't too close friends with him anymore, but he wanted someone to talk to at Hogwarts so he changed the subject, "So, what's been up over here?"

At long last, Ron got himself together enough to respond, "Just... the usual stuff. Cedric Diggory's our Champion for the cup. He hasn't been doing great, but he hasn't done that bad either. I dunno... The new Defense teacher's some guy – calls himself Mr. Velker. Crazy strict, thinks we're all ages behi –"

Harry started at the name, "Velker teaches here, too? _Damn_, if that's not crazy. He teaches at St. Brute's too. Wicked awesome – the stuff we learned was actually _useful_, you know? Though he was always keeping us past the bell so I'd be late to my next class. Do you think he's teaching the same thing in both classes? We just finished..." Harry thought back, it felt like ages ago, "Advanced mirror-block things. It has a name, but I wasn't paying attention. What've you been doing?"

Ron didn't seem as enamored with the teacher. In fact, he frowned and said, almost petulantly, "We've just been reviewing things from first and second year all quarter. He's always yelling about how we're too slow or thick and barely ever lets us do any spells – and when he does, they're dangerous. Like, _seriously_ dangerous. People are always going to the hospital wing in his class. He's insane."

Frowning, Harry tried to understand that. Yeah, Velker let them do some cool spells sometimes. Yeah, stupid people got hurt in his class. And yeah, he always yelled at the stupid people for a good twenty minutes before letting them go to the nurse's. _So what? He actually **knows **the stuff he teaches. It's **useful**._ He shook his head, brushing it off, "Whatever. He probably just liked my class, or something."

He fished around for something to say, some topic they could agree on, or at least discuss, "So... how's Hermione doin'?" She was more sensible than Ron – Harry was even willing to bet that she liked Velker. She defended _Snape_ sometimes, after all. Though, compared to some of the people at St. Brutes, Snape wasn't so bad.

Ron frowned. Obviously not a good subject, "We're not really... hanging out together. She's started hanging out with these Ravenclaws, even eating at their table sometimes." Ron said it like she was doing something completely unforgivable, though Harry didn't really get it, "And I've been hanging out with Seamus and Dean more. They're waiting for me downstairs, so... I'll see you later."

"Yeah. Later." _Since when has everything at Hogwarts gotten so... **retarded? **_The door clicked closed behind Ron – _private school kids and their respect for school property, can't even slam doors like normal people_ – and Harry rubbed his forehead. He was getting a headache again. He dug through his backpack till he found an unmarked bottle Kael had given him. In all honesty, Harry didn't know what the little white pills inside were, but they worked miracles for the headaches and he didn't really care. He swallowed two dry and flopped backwards with a sigh.

Flexing his fingers, Harry was struck with the urge to punch the wall again. The image of stone dented in floated back to him and he forced himself to relax. _It's cool_, He told himself firmly, _Adrenaline can do crazy things. RD coulda slipped me speed or something crazy like that. That explains the wall, no problem. It'll fade in a few days. It's all cool_. It still didn't feel all cool, though, and Harry wished he had the number of anyone's cell phone – anyone but J, that is. He couldn't call until he had something more to show for himself.

Needing something to do with his hands, Harry pulled out his latest Defense assignment. Admittedly, the guy could be pretty strict sometimes. He'd probably expect the assignment turned in even though Harry had switched schools. But that wasn't _mean_, really. If it happened to someone else, it'd be hilarious. Even if he was asked for an assignment he didn't have, Harry would just shrug it off – grades weren't such a big deal anyway, and he was perfectly capable with laughing along with the rest of the class.

So why couldn't everyone else just loosen up and get it – get _any_ of it?


End file.
